SELECT SERMONS 



OF THE 



/ 

REV. WORTHINGTON SMITH, D.D. 

LATE PRESIDENT OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VERMONT. 



WITH 



A MEMOIR OF HIS LIFE, 



KEY. JOSEPH TORREY, D.D. 

PROFESSOR OF INTELLECTUAL A2TD MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



ANDOVER: 
WARREN F. DRAPER. 

BOSTON : GOFLD AND LINCOLN ; CROSBY, NICHOLS, LEE & CO. 

NEW YORK: JOHN WILEY. 

PHILADELPHIA : SMITH, ENGLISH & CO. 

1861. 



//, ?/C 



r 






Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1861, by 

WARREN F. DRAPER, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts. 



'? 



s 



Q <r 



andovee: 

i'iilNTED BY WARREN F. DRAPER. 



PREFACE. 



The memorial volume here offered to the reader 
has been prepared at the urgent request of many 
friends of President Smith. It has been felt that 
some such tribute was due to a man who had con- 
tributed so largely and for so long a time to the 
interests of religion and learning in the State of 
his adoption, and that the example of his life and 
a few of his public discourses would be of value 
to the religious public. 

The Memoir has been prepared, as a labor of 
love, by Rev. Dr. Torrey. His acquaintance with 
Dr. Smith, beginning at an early period, and con- 
tinued through life, left nothing to be desired as a 
means of knowing and appreciating his character ; 
while many details, that might otherwise have 



IV PREFACE. 

escaped his notice, were kindly furnished by Mrs. 
Smith and other friends. 

The selection of sermons has been made, in the 
main, with the advice and concurrence of Dr. 
Torrey. The few here printed have been selected 
out from a large number perhaps equally worthy ; 
some at the desire of friends who had been inter- 
ested in them when first delivered, and others 
because expressive of the views of Dr. Smith on 
some important topic, or as illustrative of his 
peculiar habits of thought. With very trifling 
exceptions, the sermons are printed as originally 
delivered. A very few words and phrases only 
have been changed, such as one on reviewing his 
own composition might make for the sake of per- 
spicuity. 

The writer of this preface, who has had this 
work in charge, and seen it through the press, is 
responsible for the titles given to the different ser- 
mons, and the order of their arrangement in this 
volume, and also for any errors that a more careful 
supervision might have avoided. It is hoped that 
these errors will not be found very numerous, or 
such as to impair its value, though in some degree 
incidental to a volume printed at a distance from 
the residence of the editor. 



PREFACE. V 

Acknowledgments are due to many friends for 
their assistance, — to Mr. J. E. Goodrich, for his 
good offices in securing the best form and place 
of publication ; to Dr. Stevens, Rev. B. B. Newton, 
and others at St. Albans, and to the Alumni of the 
University elsewhere, for their aid in securing 
subscriptions. 

N. G. c. 

University of Vermont, January 22, 1861. 



a* 



CONTENTS. 



MEMOIR. 



PAGE 



Parentage of President Smith, 1 

Enters Williams College, 6 

Contersion, 7 

At Andover, 8 

Marriage, 15 

Settled at St. Albans, 16 

First Fruits of his Ministry, 18 

Difficulty with Mr. Burchard, 20 

Called to other fields — to Beverly, 29 

Appointed a Member of the Corporation of the University 

of Vermont, 47 

Elected President, 49 

Character as a Preacher and Pastor, 52 

As Moderator in the Church. Opinions, .... 66 

Case of Rev. Mr. Lyon, 73 

Inauguration as President — Impression made, ... 78 

As President, 82 

On the Union of the Vermont Colleges, .... 86 

His Theory of Education, 89 

Prof. Buckham on his Mode of Instruction and Government, 94 

Resigns his Office from Ill-health, 101 

Death 102 

Character, 104 

Theological Views, ......... 108 

Estimates of Dr. Smith's Character, contributed by Prof. 

Clark and President Pease, . . . . . 110-112 



VIII CONTENTS. 

SERMONS. 
I. 

THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 



FAGS 



Acts xiii. 36 : " For David, after he had served his own generation by 
the will of God, fell on sleep, and was laid unto his fathers, and saw 
corruption," ............ 119 



II. 

THE ELEMENTS AND CONDITIONS OF USEFULNESS. 

Acts xviii, 24—26 ; " And a certain Jew, named Apollos, born at Alex- 
andria, an eloquent man, and mighty in the Scriptures, came to 
Ephesus. This man was instructed in the way of the Lord: and being 
fervent in the Spirit, he spake and taught diligently the things of the 
Lord, knowing only the Baptism of John. And he began to speak j 
boldly in the synagogue : whom, when Aquila and Priscilla had heard, 
they took him unto them, and expounded unto him the way of God 
more perfectly," 133 

III. 

THE DIVINE METHOD FOR CONDUCTING RELIGIOUS 

INQUIRY. 

John hi. 12: "If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, 
how shall ye believe if I tell you of heavenly things ?" . . .152 



IV. 

MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 

Ezekiel xviii. 1—4 : " The word of the Lord came unto me again, 
saying : What mean ye, that ye use this proverb concerning the land 
of Israel; saying, the fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the chil- 
dren's teeth are set on edge ? As I live, saith the Lord, ye shall not 
have occasion any more to use this proverb in Israel. Behold, all 
souls arc mine; as the soul of the Father, so also the soul of the son is 
mine: the soul that sinneth, it ahall die," ...... 173 



CONTENTS. IX 

V. 

THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 

PAGE 

Matthew xvi. 15, 16: " He saith unto them, But whom say ye that I 
am ? And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the 
Son of the living God," . .189 



VI. 

THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 

Micah ii. 7 : "0 thou that art named the house of Jacoh, is the Spirit 
of the Lord straitened ? Are these his doings ? Do not my words do 
good to him that walketh uprightly," 209 



VII. 

A SELFISH RELIGION. 

Job i.9: " Then Satan answered the Lord, and said, Doth Job fear God 

for nought?" 231 



VIII. 

CONSCIENCE. 

Hebrews v. 14: "But strong meat belongeth to them that are of full 
age, even to those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to 
discern both good and evil," 247 



IX. 

THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 

James ii. 10 : " For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend 
in one point, he is guilty of all," 260 



X CONTENTS. 

X. 

THE GOSPEL TRUE TO THE MORAL CONVICTIONS 

OF MEN. 

PAGE 

Acts xxiv. 25: "And as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and 
judgment to come, Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy way for this 
time ; when I have a convenient season I will call for thee," . . 275 



XI. 

RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS RESISTED. 

John xii. 42, 43 : " Nevertheless, among the chief rulers also many believed 
on him ; but because of the Pharisees they did not confess him, lest 
they should be put out of the synagogue ; for they loved the praise of 
men more than the praise of God," 285 

XII. 

A SAVING FAITH. 

Matthew ix. 28, 29 : " And when he was come into the house, the blind 
men came to him, and Jesus saith unto them, Believe ye that I am 
able to do this ? They said unto him, Yea, Lord. Then touched he 
their eyes, saying, According to your faith be it unto you," . . 296 



XIII. 

THE RELIGION OF THE GOSPEL A LIFE. 

Acts v. 19, 20 : " But the angel of the Lord by night opened the prison 
doors, and brought them forth, and said: Go, stand and speak in the 
temple to the people all the words of this life," 307 



XIV. 

CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 

Col. iv. 5 : " Walk in wisdom toward them that are without, redeeming 
the time," g^o 



CONTENTS. XI 

XV. 

DISPROPORTION BETWEEN THE DURATION AND THE 
PURPOSE OF LIFE. 

PAGE 

Psalm lxxxix. 47 : " Remember how short my time is; wherefore hast 
thou made all men in vain ? " 335 



XVI. 

LIFE, AS RELATED TO THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 

2 Cor. iv. 18 : " While we look not at the things which are seen, but at 
the things which are not seen ; for the things which are seen are tem- 
poral, but the things which are not seen are eternal." .... 347, 



THOUGHTS IN AFFLICTION, 366 



MEMOIR 



OF 



DR. WORTHINGTON SMITH. 



Worthington Smith, the subject of this biographical 
sketch, was born in Hadley, Massachusetts, October 
11th, 1795. He might claim to be descended from the 
most ancient family in that town ; for there, and on the 
spot where he was born, his ancestors had lived, from sire 
to son, through five successive generations, — the first 
Smith having established himself in the centre of the 
town, in 1659. 1 This was about the time of the first set- 
tlement of Hadley, and the same year in which the Rev. 
John Russel was installed as pastor over the newly- 
formed church. The original farm extended from what 
is now the main street of the village of South Hadley to 

1 Since writing the above, I have ascertained that this ancestor was 
Lieutenant Samuel Smith, one of the pilgrim fathers of New England. He 
was born in England in 1598, and died in Hadley in 1680. Lieutenant 
Samuel Smith was one of the colony from Wethersfield, who, with their 
pastor, the Rev. Mr. Eussel, made the first settlement in Hadley. The 
descendants in direct line from Samuel Smith were, 1. Chjleab Smith, who 
died in 1731, aged 95 ; 2. Capt. Luke Smith, who died in 1747, aged 81 ; 
3. Dea. Jona. Smith, died 1774, aged 73 ; 4. Deacon Seth Smith, the 
father of Worthington Smith. The first of this line must have been over 
GO at the time of the settlement of Hadley, and her son Chileab already 
23. It was a family remarkable for longevity, — the average of the lives 
preceding Dr. Smith being more than 80 years. 
1 



2 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

the banks of Connecticut River, and still remains in the 
possession of members of the family. 

Worthington Smith was born in the house belonging 
to this farm which stands on the village green ; where 
his parents, Deacon Seth Smith and Lydia his wife, 
continued to reside while they lived. 1 They were per- 
sons of great worth — living epistles of Christ, known 
and read of all men ; and in the church, which they 
served for many years in all good works, their memory 
is still precious. The late pastor of the church, who 
boarded in this family for several of the early years of 
his ministry, says of the venerable deacon, that " the few 
last years of his exemplary life were chiefly spent in re- 
ligious acts and doing good, and that he died in old age 
with great peace and even triumph ; and of his amiable 
wife, that, long distinguished for her humble Christian 
walk, she soon followed her husband to that unknown 
world beyond the grave." 2 The writer of this sketch 
had once — in 1821, during a short visit to his friend 
and classmate then residing in his father's family — the 
pleasure of seeing this venerable couple, for so, even then, 
they might be called. He still retains a very distinct im- 
pression of the patriarchal look of the old gentleman, — 
a person of small stature, as compared with his son, but 
one who knew how to " rule his children and his own 
house well," as he quietly showed by taking the lead 
himself at the family devotions. 

But the point which chiefly distinguished the elders of 
this well-ordered household, and for which they were 
known far and wide, was their loving observance of 
the duty of Christian hospitality. They were " careful 

1 The house, considerably more that a hundred years old, is now the resi- 
dence of Dr. Smith's youngest brother. 

2 Letters from Rev. Dr. Woodbridge to Mrs Smith. 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 3 

to entertain strangers," those of the clerical profession in 
particular, in so much that their house came to be re- 
garded as a sort of " ministers' house." And here 
doubtless — as it maybe remarked by the way — -was 
fostered the elements of the same disposition as it ap- 
peared afterwards in their son Worthington, — that un- 
feigned respect and love for his brethren in the ministry, 
together with a habit of extending to them on all occa- 
sions personal services and the hospitalities of his home 
without stint and without grudging. 

The children of the family were seven sons and a 
daughter; 1 and of the sons, the subject of this memoir 
was the youngest. He was named Worthington after 
the family-name of his grandmother on his mother's 
side. A word respecting the Worthington family will 
not be out of place here. All of this name in the 
United States, as appears from a note by Dr. Sprague 
in his Annals of the American Pulpit, 2 " were probably 
descended from Nicholas Worthington, a man of the 
times of the Commonwealth, and a soldier under Crom- 
well, who, after having lost a part or the whole of his 
estate by confiscation, came to this country about 1650, 
settled first in Hatfield, Massachusetts, and afterwards 
removed to Hartford in Connecticut." It is a fact worth 
noticing, that several Smiths, belonging probably to dif- 
ferent families of this name, could trace back their 
lineage to him as their emigrant ancestor. John Cotton 
Smith, late Governor of Connecticut, was a son of the 
Rev. Cotton Mather Smith, who married a Worthing- 
ton. The Rev. Ethan Smith, of Hopkinton, New 
Hampshire, was a son of Deacon Elijah and Sibbil 
(Worthington) Smith, 3 of Belchertown, Massachusetts; 

1 Now Mrs. Gadcomb, of St. Albans. 2 Vol. I. p. 501. 

3 A Mrs. Sibbil Worthington Smith, who was great-aunt to Dr. Smith, 



4 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

and finally, our Dr. Worthington Smith, who deserved 
to write the two names together in his own, was de- 
scended from the same stock on his mother's side. 

The eldest son of the seven was the Rev. Seth Smith, 
who was educated at Yale College, and afterwards set- 
tled and remained for a long time, even to the close of 
his life, pastor of the Presbyterian church in Genoa, 
Cayuga county, New York, where he died, 1849. He 
was ten years older than his brother Worthington, and it 
was doubtless by his example, if not owing directly to his 
counsel and encouragement, that the latter was induced, 
at a very early period, to shape his course to the end of 
obtaining a college education. The following account 
of the character of this excellent man and faithful 
brother, to whose friendly aid, in various ways, our Wor- 
thington Smith ever felt himself to be greatly indebted, 
is from one who thoroughly knew him. " He was a well- 
instructed scribe in the mysteries of the divine kingdom, 
and a pattern of all the virtues which adorn the sacred 
profession. He died suddenly, a few years ago, greatly 
lamented, and his memory is still precious to multitudes 
who once marked his meekness combined with firmness, 
his calmness without apathy, his zeal for the truth with- 
out bitterness, his uncompromising strictness without 
obstinacy, his gentleness without weakness, and his abil 
ity and fidelity in preaching the gospel, without the 
smallest approach to that disrespectful impudence which 
sets at defiance all the order and laws of civility and 
courtesy." 1 

I have said that Worthington Smith felt himself to 
be greatly indebted to his brother Seth. This he grate- 
being sister of his maternal grandmother, lived in Hadley and died there, 
aged 103. Doubtless the same person with the one mentioned above. 

1 Rev. Dr. Woodbridge, in a letter to Mrs. Smith, 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. D 

fully acknowledged in a discourse delivered on the occa- 
sion of his brother's death, before his own congregation 
(several of whom were relations of the deceased), where, 
after paying a just tribute to the rare excellence of the 
man, and to his preeminent qualities as a Christian 
minister, he feelingly expressed his own personal and 
life-long obligation to him, as one whose kindness to- 
wards him had ever combined the cordial sympathy of a 
brother with the judicious counsels of a father. 

The same hand which drew, from personal knowledge, 
the above portraiture of the Rev. Seth Smith, has fur- 
nished the following account of Worthington as he ap- 
peared in his boyhood. " I remember your husband in 
his youth," says Dr. Woodbridge, in a letter to Mrs. 
Smith, " as of a bright and agreeable demeanor, prone 
to study, thoughtful, and with no apparent tendency to 
any form of youthful indecorum. That there were faults 
in his character, I cannot doubt; for he was by nature? 
like all other men, dead in trespasses and sins, and a 
child of wrath, even as others ; but what his specific 
faults were, if I ever knew, I do not now recollect. Per- 
haps, however, I might say, that one of the most notice- 
able of his failings was that with which young America 
is by no means chargeable — the extreme of diffidence 
and reserve." This reserved disposition, which so strongly 
marked his childhood and youth, went with him, in a 
measure, through life, without being ever entirely over- 
come by the more social and companionable habits 
which he afterwards cultivated. 

His preparatory studies for college, commencing at an 
early period, were pursued partly at the Hadley Grammar 
School, partly under the care of Dr. Hyde, of Lee, and 
finally in the family and under the superintendence of his 
brother Seth, in Genoa, New York. He seems to have 



6 MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 

remained under the care of his excellent brother until 
the autumn of 1813, when he was admitted at Williams 
College, as a member of the Sophomore class. What- 
ever may have been the motive for thus entering a year 
in advance, it could not have been any fear of his abil- 
ity to withstand the temptations of college life, for an 
unusually manly character was the marked feature of 
his early youth. Perhaps a desire to retain him as long 
as possible under the healthful influence of a pious and 
watchful elder brother, who was as competent, to say 
the least, as any tutor to direct him in the studies of the 
first college year, induced his friends to take this course, 
which doubtless harmonized also with his own inclina- 
tions ; for, as we have seen, there was no mortal whom 
he so loved and trusted as he did this brother. He en- 
tered a class small in numbers, but reputable for talents 
and character. 

Some time in the spring of 1816, when he was in his 
senior year, he came home to Hadley to spend a short 
vacation, and found the church in that place enjoying 
a time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. It 
was then that his own mind, always thoughtful in regard 
to his need of a personal and saving interest in Christ, 
was more strongly than ever impressed with the impor- 
tance of securing that interest for himself, while the 
Spirit of God, evidently shed forth, was translating 
many, and some of them his associates and friends, 
from the power of darkness into the kingdom of his 
dear Son. 

But these anxieties, and the struggle going on within 
his own mind, were carefully kept to himself. He would 
confide them to no human sympathy. He neither 
sought counsel, nor by the betrayal of a. look invited it, 
from any one. Meantime his parents, with unwonted 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 7 

importunity, were praying in secret places that he might 
be transformed from the image of the earthly into that of 
the heavenly; and their anxiety increased as the time 
for his return to college drew near. Finally the time 
arrived, and then, unexpectedly to his friends, he ex- 
pressed his intention to remain in Hadley for the present, 
stating as his motive that the Holy Spirit had long been 
striving with him, and this might be the last time the 
offer of reconciliation to God through Jesus Christ 
would be so plainly made to him. Not many days 
after this he avowed his hope in Christ, and found peace 
in believing. 1 

He returned to college ; but at the next communion 
season in Hadley he came home again to make there a 
public profession of his faith in Christ, preferring to do 
this in the place which had thus witnessed his first and 
his second birth, and to connect himself with a church 
which numbered among its members his ancestors for 
so many generations. 

That this was to him no formal thing merely, but a 
very solemn and well-considered act of self-consecration, 
is quite evident. Dr. Woodbridge, then pastor of the 
church, and who was present at the time, remarks of it : 
" I have no distinct recollection of the order and strength 
of the religious exercises at the period of his hopeful 
conversion, except that they were satisfactory, as related 
by himself, and that he was received with universal ap- 
proval to the communion of the church. His subse- 
quent life of constancy and fidelity set the seal to the 
genuineness of that profession by which he was then 
separated from the world in its delusions, its pomps, its 
vanities, and its forbidden pleasures. Who ever wit- 

1 Facts supplied by Mrs. Smith. 



8 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

nessed in him an act inconsistent with the gravity, the 
sobriety, the cheerful acquiescence in the Divine will, 
becoming a follower of the Lamb ? He could be pleas- 
ant, and even innocently mirthful; but never, I have 
reason to believe, did he lose sight of the proprieties of 
his situation as a member of the church, and a herald 
of the cross to guilty men." x 

Having thus consecrated himself to God and the 
church just at the period when most young men at col- 
lege are thinking seriously about their plans for future 
life, young Smith felt no perplexity or hesitation in 
choosing his, but dedicated himself at once to the service 
of his Divine Master in the ministry of the gospel. Ac- 
cordingly, in the autumn of 1816, and only a few weeks 
after his graduation at Williams College, he entered 
upon his course of theological study at Andover. Here 
I first became acquainted with him, and had opportunity 
of knowing him, as members of the same class generally 
know each other. There was in this class a very re- 
spectable representation of men from Williams College ; 
not all graduates of the same year, nor exactly upon a 
par in point of scholarship and attainments, while they 
differed remarkably in many points of character; but 
they were all talented and worthy men, who attained, 
nearly every one of them, to some sort of distinction in 
after-life. Their more obvious traits, in the free inter- 
course of students with each other, were soon well 
known to all : the more latent worth of each was not so 
fully appreciated. It took no long time to find out the 
conversational talent, the strong feeling for the lofty and 
imaginative in one, the decided linguistic and philo- 
logical turn of another, the neat and logical accuracy of 

1 Letter to Mrs. Smith. 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 9 

a third. To make out clearly what constituted the 
peculiar talent and bent of our fellow-student Smith 
was not so easy. He was about the most reserved man 
among us. Sometimes, however, his voice would be 
heard in a debate, or an argument, when we would 
pause to listen. A certain gravity of manner, justified 
by the plain good sense of his remarks ; a certain com- 
prehensive way which he had of " sounding the merits 
of a case," were his most noticeable characteristics. 

In the purely philological and exegetical studies which 
then occupied a good part of the first year in the 
Andover course, — Hebrew being studied from the first 
elements, and the Greek of the New Testament with a 
more special reference to interpretation, — I do not re- 
member that he ever attempted to distinguish himself. 
While some of his classmates — Jonas King, for in- 
stance, who was also his classmate in college — pushed 
their Hebrew studies much further than had before been 
customary in the institution, even into the perhaps more 
curious than profitable lore concerning the accents, and 
were not satisfied without some knowledge, such as the 
imperfect helps then to be obtained would allow, of the 
several cognate dialects, Smith, more modestly, if not 
more judiciously, aspired only to secure a practical 
ability to consult the original Scriptures for himself. He 
had no ambition whatever to excel in this species of 
earning. At the same time, he entertained no contempt 
for it. Not one, I venture to say, better appreciated and 
relished than he did the somewhat rambling, but always 
interesting and instructive, talks of our able instructor in 
this department. 

Sacred philology we were taught to regard as the 
basis of a true theological education. It seemed neces- 
sary to reiterate and impress deeply this maxim, at the 



10 MEMOIR OF WOETRTNGTON SMITH. 

time when a new method of theological study, or at 
least a method new for this country, was initiated by 
the noble zeal and untiring industry of Professor Stuart. 
Revealed religion, indeed every actual religion that has 
shown power enough to influence men, is of the nature 
of a fact rather than of a theory. Christianity reposes 
entirely on a great fact — the central one of all history. 
The Bible, in the very language in which it was first 
written, is the only authentic record of it. To be certain 
of having the text of this Bible, then, as nearly as pos- 
sible in its original state, and to understand how to 
make out the sense of the text by just rules of interpre- 
tation, would seem, indeed, to be all-important pre- 
requisites, without which it would be little less than pre- 
sumption for any man to claim to be able to teach and 
expound truth from the oracles of God. Such were the 
views impressed upon us by the general teachings of one 
whose memory will always be dear to the many who 
from him took their first and abiding direction in theo- 
logical inquiries. 

Our classmate Smith felt the spell of this influence, — 
as, indeed, who could escape it ? — and the choicest books 
in his small library, those on which the dust never accu- 
mulated, were always the sacred volumes in the original, 
and the best books he could procure for their elucidation. 
But what do the Scriptures teach, not here and there 
merely, but as one connected and coherent system of 
doctrine, was, after all, the great question with him. In 
attempting the careful solution of this question, the calm, 
reflective, reasoning mind of our friend Smith found 
itself in its element. With doubts of a rationalistic 
tendency I do not think he was ever much troubled. 
He had always lived in an entirely different atmosphere, 
where such doubts had never yet intruded. He felt too 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTOX SMITH. H 

deeply the power of the great and fundamental doctrines 
of the cross in his own heart ; but his naturally strong 
judgment and broad comprehension of mind forbade his 
ever resting upon the mere letter. He was for bringing 
each revealed truth into reconciliation with every other, 
but without straining anything through compliance with 
that interest. He was a fair man in an argument, and 
without the least spice of obstinacy. He never wished 
to avoid difficulties which ought to be met, nor to 
smooth them over, but preferred rather to see them at 
their worst, and he, if he could not solve them, would 
manfully acknowledge it. He was candid, sincere, and 
open to conviction ; a patient listener, having an opinion 
of his own, yet ever willing and ready to be taught 
better ; modestly trustful in his own power of discern- 
ment, but without the least show of self-conceit. I am 
now speaking of what our friend Smith was at Andover, 
and as a student of theology. He was all that I have 
said then, A sound judgment, reposing on a broad 
foundation of natural good sense, was, perhaps, the fun- 
damental trait in his intellectual character. And this, 
which was the distinguishing faculty with him, sancti- 
fied and clarified, as we have reason to believe it was, 
by divine grace, prepared and predisposed him to become 
a sound theologian. In our class discussions before Dr. 
Woods, during the second year at Andover, when the 
study of theology was made the principal thing, I do 
not remember that Mr. Smith ever took any very active 
part. His silence may have been owing to his natural 
reserve. I am inclined to believe, however, that he was 
influenced also, quite as much, by a nice sense of pro- 
priety ; that he considered it the part of the beginner, in 
the presence of a master in theology, rather to get at the 
truth as the latter could unfold it, than to dispute either 



12 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

with him or before him. It is not strange, perhaps, that 
young men who have never as yet sounded the depths 
of the problems which theology is continually bringing 
before them, should sometimes presume too much on 
the competency of their comparatively unpractised un- 
derstandings to grapple with questions lying beyond the 
furthest reach of mere understanding. But in studying 
this science, modesty at the outset is, without the least 
doubt, the most favorable, as it is the most becoming 
disposition. That the absence of all rashness and pre- 
sumption, — that a moderate and guarded spirit, which 
preferred the narrow limits of the positive and the cer- 
tainly revealed to the unlimited negative side of spec- 
ulation and of objection, — that a temper of this* sort, 
modest without being, in any bad sense, confined and 
narrow, distinguished our brother Smith in an emi- 
nent degree, all who knew him at Andover can testify ; 
and that he left the seminary firmly established, after 
thorough investigation, in all the essential doctrines 
which he taught and preached in after-life, may reason- 
ably be presumed. 

There were some particular points to which he then 
and afterwards devoted more especial attention. The 
anthropological side, if it may be so expressed, of the- 
ology — the questions relating to man as a moral agent, 
to the law which he is placed under, to his ability as an 
accountable being, to his dependence as a creature and 
a sinner, to the whole doctrine respecting virtue or holi- 
ness and respecting sin, and to the true source of moral 
strength for the redeemed — was the side which, by 
natural bent and inclination of mind, he was led to 
investigate the most profoundly ; and in his mode of 
viewing and treating these and analogous topics, he 
ever showed remarkable vigor of thought and clearness 
of apprehension. 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 13 

Whether it was at Andover, too, that Mr. Smith laid 
the foundation of his peculiar style of sermonizing, I do 
not know, but am inclined to believe that he never paid 
much attention, or attached great importance to any 
outward rules or teachings on this subject. He was a 
quick and ready writer, perhaps because he seldom un- 
dertook to put his pen to paper until he had thought 
through the subject before him. I believe he studied 
sermonizing by writing sermons, and that his sermons 
were written, for the most part, under the fervor and 
glow of some single thought which had taken full pos- 
session of his mind. 

In June, 1819, he was licensed to preach by the Ando- 
ver Association, and in the following September, having 
completed the three years' course of study in the theo- 
logical institution, declining every offer to engage him at 
once in the active duties of his profession, he returned 
home to Hadley, with a view of enjoying a short season 
of repose and refreshment in his old home. His consti- 
tution, never robust, had suffered from long and con- 
tinuous application to studious pursuits, and his friends 
were now anxious that he should, for the present, aban- 
don all idea of assuming the labors and responsibilities 
of the ministry, and seek by change of occupation to 
restore his physical powers to their wonted vigor and 
elasticity. Just at this time, the office of Principal of 
Hopkins Academy, in Hadley, had been vacated by 
the resignation of the Rev. Dan Huntington. At the 
urgent request of the Trustees, Mr. Smith consented to 
take the oversight of this flourishing school for one year. 
Thus he began and closed his labors as a public man 
in the capacity of a teacher at the head of a literary 
institution ; and in the first case, as in the last, he ful- 
filled the utmost reasonable expectations of his employers, 



14 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

and secured to himself the love and respect of all with 
whom he had to do, either as associate teachers or as 
pupils. 

The next recorded account which I find of Mr. Smith's 
movements, after he had completed the stipulated term 
of service in Hadley Academy, brings him into our state 
of Vermont. In a letter dated February 17, 1821, he 
received a unanimous call to settle as pastor over the 
First Congregational Church and Society in the east 
parish of Windsor, in this state. It appears that the 
first meeting of the society, convened for the purpose of 
giving this call, was held on December 5th, of the pre- 
ceding year, — thus Mr. Smith's steps must have been 
directed to Vermont very soon, if not immediately after 
he offered himself as a candidate for the sacred office. 
The place to which he was invited was, on the whole, a 
very desirable one : a delightful village, good society, a 
central position for wide and influential activity ; but he 
declined accepting this call, for what particular reasons 
I have not been informed. It was the church over which 
Mr. Wheeler, his friend and classmate at Andover, was 
soon afterwards settled. 

We find him next, in the summer of 1822, at St. 
Albans, where he had come on a short visit to the friend 
who was soon to be his faithful helpmate to the end of 
his life. The Congregational church in this town being 
then destitute of a settled ministry, invited him to sup- 
ply the pulpit for a Sabbath, — and then for several suc- 
cessive months. Soon after his return to Hadley, he 
received from this church and society a unanimous call 
to settle over them as their pastor. This, his second call 
from a church in Vermont, received a more favorable 
answer than had been given to the first ; though, even in 
this case, he seems not to have made up his mind, until 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 15 

after much deliberation and some misgivings, as to the 
probability of its being a field where he might labor 
successfully, and for any length of time. He acceded to 
the call, and was ordained June 4th, 1823, on which oc- 
casion his friend, Rev. Mr. Wheeler, of Windsor, preached 
the ordination sermon. About a month afterwards, July 
1st, he was united in marriage to Miss Mary A. Little, 
eldest daughter of the late Dr. Ephraim Little, of St. 
Albans, and thus became settled and domiciliated on 
the spot which was thenceforth, and to the end of his 
life on earth, his fixed residence and the home of his 
affections. 

Previous to his settlement at St. Albans, as it may 
here be remarked, he had preached, by invitation, in 
several parishes in Massachusetts and Connecticut, as 
well as in Windsor as above stated, and with acceptance 
and a desire to secure his services permanently ; — a 
desire informally expressed indeed, but with the assu- 
rance that there was nothing to hinder an official call 
being extended to him, provided he would give encour- 
agement that it would be favorably entertained. 

It was a matter of surprise to many of his friends that 
he should at last decide to labor in northern Vermont, 
where the scattered churches were all, as it were, in the 
stage of infancy, comparatively feeble, and small in num- 
bers, and in need of much patient training ; and where 
the pecuniary support to be looked for by the minister 
was not only meagre at the best, but also insecure. 1 
Massachusetts, Connecticut, and also the eastern bor- 
ders of Vermont, presented fields of labor far more prom- 
ising to any man inclined to regard the prospects of a 
comfortable living as the primary consideration. But 

1 The salary given at first to Mr. Smith was five hundred dollars ; this 
was afterwards increased to seven hundred. 



16 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

what might have operated upon other men as dissua- 
sives, we have reason to think were the prevailing 
motives which decided the choice of this conscientious 
servant of the Lord. A prospect of hard labor where 
such labor was plainly needed, and the condition of the 
field, which promised important results of a permanent 
character to efforts wisely and faithfully bestowed, of- 
fered doubtless the most inviting prospect to him. And 
this view of the case is confirmed by his subsequent 
conduct. For although, during the course of his minis- 
try here, he had many invitations coming from different 
quarters in and out of the state, and in which, by the 
usual inducements held out on such occasions, he was 
urged to exchange his. present position for some other 
field of labor offering greater social and literary advan- 
tages, or a more certain prospect of extensive usefulness, 
he uniformly discouraged such attempts to disturb the 
relation between him and his people, as long as that 
relation continued to be a peaceful and harmonious one. 

At the time Mr. Smith accepted the invitation from 
the people in St. Albans, and when he came there for 
the purpose of being ordained, the congregation had not 
as yet a church edifice of their own. They were accus- 
tomed to assemble for religious worship in the court- 
house. But, as the place was thought to be too small 
for such an occasion as an ordination, the services by 
which Mr. Smith was inducted into the pastoral office 
were held in the Methodist chapel. Such was the incip- 
ient state of things in the religious community among 
whom he had chosen to cast his lot. 

Thus his ministry began. Let us now trace its course, 
checkered with various experiences, pleasant and pain- 
ful, through a period of twenty-seven years. Many of 
these experiences, being only such as he shared in com- 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 17 

raon with every other faithful minister of the gospel, 
may be passed over slightly, or without any particular 
notice whatever. I shall endeavor to confine myself, 
for the most part, in this sketch, to the few incidents in 
Mr. Smith's pastoral career which served to bring out or 
to illustrate prominent traits of his character, or which 
for any other reason, subordinate to this main purpose, 
may seem to possess a claim to attention. Whether 
happy or not in my selection of facts, I shall aim to be 
as faithful in the statement of them as may be compat- 
ible with a careful avoidance of every unnecessary per- 
sonal allusion. It should be remembered that the first 
and middle parts of Mr. Smith's ministry fell within a 
period when the state of the churches throughout the 
region where he labored was considerably different from 
what it is at the present time. 

In the winter of 1825-26, — a little more than two 
years after his settlement, and probably as the result of 
his faithful labors, — an uncommon degree of attention 
to religion was awakened among the people of St. Al- 
bans and its vicinity. A disposition to serious inquiry, 
such as had not been witnessed before for a long time, 
manifested itself in the community generally, but espe- 
cially among the young people, many of whom were 
hopefully converted. Whatever may have been the imme- 
diate occasion that led to this interesting state of things, 
whether it was to be ascribed to this or to that outward 
instrumentality, it bore evidence, to our pastor, of being 
a genuine work of the Holy Spirit, and he entered into 
it, as might be expected, with his whole heart. With- 
out departing from the calm earnestness of his usual 
manner, and relying solely upon the truth as " the 
power of God unto salvation," he presented this truth 
with all the clearness and force which his own clear 

2* " 



18 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

apprehension of it and experience of its efficacy enabled 
him to do, before his awakened people, suiting his texts 
and his themes to the wants of the time, and with such 
effect — so I have been told by those who were present 

— as left an ineffaceable impression on all who heard 
him. 

One person, now himself a preacher, who sat at this 
time under Mr. Smith's ministry, and who ascribes his 
own conversion, under God, to impressions then received, 
says that he still retains "in vivid recollection" several 
of the texts employed, and of the discourses preached 
from them, at this period. These texts were to him, and 
doubtless to many others, as goads and nails fixed by a 
master of assemblies. They moreover reflect the state 
of the preacher's own mind, his deep feeling of respon- 
sibility at so critical a season, his quick discernment of 
what was needed, and his ready tact in adapting him- 
self to the real condition of things, and I therefore in- 
sert them here : " Prepare to meet thy God ; " " One 
sinner destroyeth much good ; " " Fools make a mock 
at sin ; " " The Lord's portion is his people ; " " Behold, 
ye despisers, and wonder, and perish ! for behold, I work 
a work in your day which ye shall in nowise believe, 
though a man declare it unto you." 

The history of the sermon from the text " One sinner 
destroyeth much good" — a sermon long remembered, 
preached on New Year's day — was, I have been in- 
formed, something like this : It had come to the knowl- 
edge of the pastor that a talented and influential young 
lawyer, who had recently established himself at St. 
Albans, opposed the good work going on in the parish 

— at least, spoke slightingly of the prevailing interest in 
religious subjects. Fearing the injurious influence which 
one such individual might have on the young men of 



MEMOIR OF WOETHIXGTON SMITH. 19 

the village, Mr. Smith came out in a sermon of great 
power, from the text above cited ; and it had its effect, 
not only in silencing opposition, but in giving a new 
impulse to the religious movement among his people. 
About thirty, most of them young persons, were added 
to the church as the fruits of this revival. 

These were the first fruits of his ministry, and thus 
far everything had gone on peacefully and prosperously. 
The church, which, at the time Mr. Smith came to St. 
Albans, was " weakened and prostrated by dissensions of 
a very acrimonious character, and of more than three 
years' standing, had come together as a unit upon him;" 1 
and in this seeming union among themselves, and per- 
fect understanding between pastor and flock, they were 
now experiencing, as indeed for some time longer they 
continued to experience, the salutary and blessed effects 
of a fellowship grounded, to all appearance, in a mutual 
confidence the most entire. But, in reality, and as it 
proved afterwards, the unanimity of feeling in the church 
was not resting upon the most solid foundation. Pres- 
ent policy seems to have had more influence in bringing 
the minds of all together than that mutual Christian 
love and forbearance which is the only basis of true 
union. It is not necessary to suppose that disaffected 
members of a church are bad men, or even that they are 
not Christians ; but surely they are worse than useless 
members of the community to which they belong, and 
the sooner they and others know it the better for them- 
selves and for all concerned. Suspicions and jealousies, 
in themselves mean and insignificant, may often be the 
only cause of misunderstanding ; or it may have a more 
serious origin. But, no matter what the cause may be, 
the thing secretly cherished or fomented can never work 

1 Statement of one of the deacons. 



20 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

anything but mischief, — coldness, estrangement, dis- 
trust, — altogether selfish feelings, whose tendency is to 
spread wider and wider, no man knows how or why, till 
the whole church becomes infected, and the minister's 
usefulness is thenceforth at an end. 

Something like this had begun to be the state of things 
in the church at St. Albans, when, by a slight occasion 
from without, which led every man to assume at once 
his true position towards his fellow-members and towards 
the pastor, the whole extent of the evil was made ap- 
parent, and the proper course could be taken to bring it 
to an end. About the year 1830, Mr. Burchard, an 
evangelist, came by invitation into this part of Vermont. 
It is no business of mine to judge the motives of this 
individual, or his character as a Christian man. What- 
ever may have been his motives, his measures were by 
many thought extremely objectionable. He came pro- 
fessedly to stir up the churches here from their spiritual 
slumber, and awaken in them a deeper interest for the 
salvation of souls — an object most praiseworthy in 
itself, and which, rightly prosecuted, could have only 
met with the sanction of every settled pastor who had 
at heart the good of his people. But the difficulty was 
that this Mr. Burchard could do nothing except in his 
own way, and by " working in his own harness ; " — 
except by taking the church, for the time being, out of 
the pastor's hands, and introducing among them a 
certain order of proceeding, to which Congregational 
churches in this region had never been accustomed, — a 
system by which the kingdom of God was not to be 
taken by force, but men were to be forced into it, as it 
were, in spite of themselves. 

Mr. Smith took a decided stand from the first against 
the introduction of this evangelist into his own parish, or 



L 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 21 

into any part of the field, where his influence could pre- 
vent it. He had his objections both to the man and to 
his measures. But, aside from objections of this sort, 
he stood firmly upon a principle which he considered a 
fundamental one in Congregational church relations, 
viz., that the pastor, so long as he sustained that rela- 
tion, could never properly surrender the flock committed 
to his special charge to the independent control of any 
other man. Said he to a brother in the ministry, on 
hearing that some person of property and influence in 
another church had publicly declared that " Mr. Smith 
of St. Albans and his opposition to this work must be 
put down," " I am doing what I regard as my duty. 
I am defending the best interests of the churches and 
the cause of God. And in this defence, if need be, I 
will resist unto blood." The passion of this language, 
in a man of such singular moderation on ordinary occa- 
sions, shows how high things must have been carried at 
this time on the other side. 

The displeasure which seems to have been excited 
abroad against this faithful pastor for assuming to jndge 
what was best for his own people and for the churches 
generally, found sympathy also in his own church and 
among his own society. Men slow to understand how 
" order is Heaven's first law" — and it is to be feared 
such uneasy spirits are to be found in almost every 
church — considered it a thing not to be tolerated that 
they must be prevented by one man's opposition from 
having among them the powerful preacher who had, 
without the least difficulty, found access to so many 
other churches. They seemed determined that, at any 
hazard, the door should be opened for him. 

It is unnecessary to go further into the history of this 
sad affair ; suffice it to say, that, by the firmness and 



22 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTOX SMITH. 

prudence of their minister, the church was finally steered 
clearly out of these difficulties, without suffering any 
other essential harm than that the elements of discon- 
tent were rather stifled for the present than wholly and 
forever removed out of the way. 

A few years afterward measures were again put in 
train, by certain members of the church and some others, 
to introduce another evangelist of the same stamp into 
St. Albans. The Methodist chapel had been secured as 
the place for holding the meetings. All this was kept 
carefully concealed from our pastor. Finally, when the 
plan had been matured, and was about to be carried 
into execution, and when it was too late for any serious 
purpose of consultation, a member of the church calls 
upon his minister, to draw him out on the whole sub- 
ject of such a movement. The minister, quite ignorant 
of what is in the wind, is very free and explicit in ex- 
pressing his disapproval of it. All very well, had the 
whole thing ended here. But when these free remarks, 
made in unsuspecting confidence, are industriously cir- 
culated to the minister's disadvantage ; when he is 
represented as being opposed to all measures for awak- 
ening careless sinners, — for directing the inquiring into 
the only sure and certain way of finding peace, — for 
bringing multitudes, by a short process, from the world 
into the church, — in a word, for promoting, in a manner 
the most speedy and effectual, the work of human salva- 
tion ; when words spoken in a visit made under the 
garb of friendship are twisted into a shape for such 
unworthy purposes of misrepresentation, — it certainly 
requires a little more patience than human nature, even 
fortified by grace, ordinarily possesses, to maintain the 
same serenity of temper, and act under such circum- 
stances the noble part most becoming a Christian minis- 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTOX SMITH. 23 

ter. Yet our pastor so conducted himself in this trial, 
and others like it, as to secure, without forfeiting his 
own self-respect, the esteem of those who had thus 
inconsiderately injured him. 

But from all this it would be wrong to conclude that 
Mr. Smith was opposed to any proper measures, though 
they might be something out of the ordinary line, by 
which the true interests of his people in spiritual things 
could be promoted. He was not only willing to spend 
and be spent himself in their service, but ready also to 
call in to his assistance, whenever necessary, his brethren 
in the ministry from abroad, at so-called " protracted 
meetings," when a diversity of gifts might be applied 
with peculiar advantage to awaken, or give a new im- 
pulse to an already awakened, religious interest in a 
particular community. Such meetings, from the time 
when Peter stood up with the eleven on the day of Pen- 
tecost, and when Paul and Barnabas went forth together 
for the work whereunto the Lord had called them, have 
been approved by good and pious men, and sanctioned 
by the divine blessing, in all ages of the church ; and 
such meetings met the hearty approbation of our brother 
Smith, only that he would ever insist, with the apostle 
James, " My brethren, be not many masters." 

But to return to the history of affairs in the St. Albans 
church : besides the misunderstanding which had arisen 
between some few members of the church and their 
pastor, which eventually led to the secession of these 
persons from the church and the formation of another 
church at St. Albans Bay (in the organization of which 
Mr. Smith himself was consulted), while the main body 
remained steadfastly, as they had ever done before, with 
the pastor, other difficulties arose. That negligence 
which, from some bad management or other, not unfre- 



24 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

quently attends the collection and payment of the min- 
ister's salary — a delicate subject for him to complain of, 
though a grievous one for him to bear, but which, if not 
complained of by him who suffers it, is not apt to be 
thought of by those who occasion it, — this negligence 
had been suffered to exist so long and to such extent in 
the St. Albans society that Mr. Smith thought he had 
good reason for concluding the true reason for this back- 
wardness in paying up his salary to be a want of interest 
in him and his preaching. 

To put an end to all uncertainty with regard to this 
matter on his own part, and draw forth a decided ex- 
pression of the sentiments and wishes of his congrega- 
tion, Mr. Smith, at the close of the year 1834, addressed 
to them the following communication, which I here 
insert as a document that might supply a valuable hint 
to any minister who should ever happen to be placed in 
similar circumstances : 

" Brethren and Friends : — The present state of our 
affairs as a religious community imposes on me the 
duty, as I conceive, of taking some new course, and of 
communicating to you my decision relative to the same. 

" It is well known that, from one cause and another, 
the pecuniary affairs of this society have become con- 
siderably embarrassed, and that provision for what is 
deemed an adequate support of the gospel does not 
exist. The existing deficiency, I believe, no one sup- 
poses to arise from the inability of the society to supply 
it, but solely from the lack of a necessary interest in the 
subject. In this state of things I suggested to individ- 
uals, and subsequently to the church in a public meeting, 
that I conceived the difficulty arose from the loss of in- 
terest in the present minister, and that his retiring would 
restore life and energy to the body. 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 25 

" But in reply it was represented that the views of the 
church and society did not accord with mine on this 
point, and moreover, that a removal of the pastor, under 
existing circumstances, would be followed by most dis- 
astrous consequences to this people. 

" At this time an effort was set on foot to raise the 
stipulated salary by a new subscription ; but this was at 
length abandoned as impracticable. Another project was 
then devised to secure the end, viz., by leasing the seats 
in this house, and appropriating the rents to this object. 
But, to my mind, the success of this plan is all but 
hopeless. 

" Not only is the condition in which the minister is 
placed by these fruitless efforts for his support very 
embarrassing and perplexing, but it is conceived that 
the interests of the society are also very much endan- 
gered. Saying nothing of the unpleasant posture in 
which the minister is placed, it is certain that a con- 
tinual agitation of the subject of ministerial support, 
under existing circumstances, threatens to defeat the 
great object for which the Christian ministry is valuable 
to any people. 

" It is plain, then, to me, that one of two courses 
should be taken on my part, and taken now. The first 
is, to resign the pastoral office which I sustain to this 
church. But to this it is objected, that the interests of 
the church would be sacrificed by such a step at this 
time ; it being represented that the people with one voice 
desire the relation to be continued, and that a separation 
from the pastor will open a door to unavoidable divisions 
in the church. 

" The other course is, that I continue my labors as a 
minister without any remuneration for my services. I 
have concluded to take the latter course ' r and accord- 

3 



26 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

ingly do hereby discharge all subscriptions that exist for 
my support subsequent to the 8th of December, 1834, 
and shall claim no compensation for services after that 
date. 

" In connection I would remark that I expect that the 
balance due on my last year's salary will be made out 
to me, and I hope it may be done promptly. This I 
conceive to be an act of justice to me, inasmuch as it 
has not only been stipulated, but it has also been the 
ground of my reliance in the advances I have made the 
year past for the support of my family. 1 . . . 

" St. Albans, Dec. 12, 1834." 

This document might fail of being rightly understood 
by those not fully acquainted with the straightforward 
character of the writer. It might be supposed that 
something more was meant than said; that he could 
hardly be serious in proposing to serve the people of his 
charge without any remuneration whatever ; in a word, 
that it was but an expedient hit upon to stimulate them 
to greater promptness in collecting and paying over his 
salary. But it is safe to say that no such thing was in- 

1 The balance of salary remaining unpaid at the date of this paper 
amounted to a considerable sum. The family was a large one, even at this 
time ; and, as I suppose, dependent in great measure, if not wholly, on 
Mr. Smith's small income. The house in which they lived belonged to 
Mrs. Little, his wife's mother. Attached to this were a few acres of land. 
Mr. Smith, also, at a later period, received a small patrimony from his 
father, the whole of which was expended in the support of his family. 
These, so far as I can learn, were all the means he had, besides his salary, of 
providing food and clothing for a numerous household, educating his chil- 
dren, and exercising a hospitality which was duly honored because it was 
always so cheerfully bestowed. It was no uncommon thing for fifteen or 
twenty persons to be gathered at his board for days, and I know not but 
weeks, together. Of course, nothing short of the most wonderful economi- 
cal talent could have successfully conducted the affairs of such a household 
for so many years. 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 27 

tended. The supposition would be inconsistent with 
the statements made in the communication itself; incon- 
sistent with that character for manly dignity which the 
writer of it never forfeited by a single act of his life ; and 
inconsistent with the views he always held and main- 
tained on the subject of ministerial support, which ac- 
cording to him should be wholly voluntary. He meant 
as he said, and meant to abjde strictly by what he said. 
It was his purpose undoubtedly, and his mind was fully 
made up, to separate from his people as soon as he could 
do so without damaging their interests ; and on the sim- 
ple principle that where a minister is really wanted, he 
will be promptly and cheerfully supported. He makes 
no complaint, but presents a plain statement of the facts, 
and his interpretation of them. If he had interpreted 
them wrongly, he gave those who better knew the real 
state of the case a fair opportunity to correct his mistake 
by discharging all existing subscriptions for his support, 
while at the same time, to remove all apprehension of 
danger to their interests, he agrees to serve them for 
nothing until they could find a suitable person to take 
his place. Thus he acted on principle, and with de- 
cision, and yet not without a respectful and generous 
regard to the opinions and feelings of his congregation. 

What -particular action was now taken by the church 
and society I have not thought it important to inquire. 
Whatever it was, it must have been satisfactory to the 
pastor, since the separation which he contemplated did 
not then take place. 

In 1836, Mr. Smith, for the first time, made formal 
application to the church for their concurrence in call- 
ing a council to dissolve the pastoral relation between 
him and the church. Several reasons weighed with him ; 
the chief, " causes existing within the church." What 



28 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

these causes were, aside from the general state of things 
already described, I have taken no special pains to in- 
form myself, as the prompt and decided action of the 
church, together with their unanimous request that he 
would withdraw his communication, resulted in his com- 
plying with their wishes. But I am of the opinion that 
another consideration besides the state of things in the 
church had no small weight jii Mr. Smith's mind at this 
time; — that he already began to have misgivings as to 
the possibility of meeting, with his present means, the 
expenses of a large and increasing family. For, in the 
paper signifying his compliance with the request of the 
church and society that he would consent still to remain 
with them, he says : " It may be proper to connect with 
this the remark, that the change in the expenses of liv- 
ing, and the duty I owe to a family inadequately pro- 
vided for, may ere long require a change in the field of 
my labor, or in the mode in which I may serve the church 
and the world." What change in the mode of serving 
the church and world, which would not necessarily in- 
volve a change in the field of labor, was here contem- 
plated, I do not certainly know. It would not be unnat- 
ural to suppose from the character and bent of his mind, 
from his known ability as a debater, and from the interest 
which he ever took and manifested in questions relating 
to the public welfare, that he may have now entertained 
some thought of entering the field of political life. But 
though he might undoubtedly have filled any post within 
the gift of his fellow-citizens with honor to himself and 
great benefit to the state, it is not probable that he ever 
thought seriously of quitting ministerial labors to engage 
in the business of a politician. 1 It seems most likely 

1 He was at one time urgently solicited to stand as a candidate for the 
office of representative to Congress from his district. 



^ 2 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTOX SMITH. 29 

that the change in his mode of " serving the church and 
the world," which he was led to regard at this time as 
a not improbable contingency, was the business of a 
teacher or presiding officer in some theological or literary- 
institution ; for he had already been consulted repeatedly 
as to his willingness, if he should be asked, to make 
some such " change " as this. 

But a very urgent application of another sort, and an 
appeal to his deepest sympathies as a minister of Christ, 
soon led him to forget everything but the particular 
work to which he had consecrated himself. Fourteen 
years, or a little more than half the period of his minis- 
try at St. Albans, had now gone by. He had in this 
time, it may be truly said, made full proof of the minis- 
try, of its trials and of his power of endurance, of its 
requirements and of his qualifications to fulfil them. 
His character for faithfulness, prudence, and ability in 
discharging every duty belonging to the sacred calling, 
was established. He was widely known. The church, 
which is ever on the look-out for men of this description, 
— men who have been tried on all sides and not found 
wanting, — had its eye upon him. He received many let- 
ters — several from vacant parishes in his native state — 
asking his consent to stand as a candidate for settlement 
over long-established and flourishing churches, offering 
every outward inducement which could tempt a man 
who could be moved by such considerations alone to 
change his situation. Several of these letters are now 
before me, dated previous to the year 1837. He seems, 
for some reason or other, to have paid little attention to 
them ; at least, I never heard it intimated by him or 
anybody else that he had received such applications, till 
the letters were put into my hands. 

But among these came one, which I did know some- 

3* 



30 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

thing about, from a church and society that had recently 
been gathered at Beverly, Mass. As this was the only 
case in which, during a pastorate of twenty-seven years, 
he thought proper to take a request of this sort into 
serious consideration, and where it would have been 
consonant with his own wishes to transfer his relations, 
had the way been clear for so doing ; as it was a case, 
moreover, which, in the course of its history, drew from 
Mr. Smith a more distinct expression of his views re- 
garding himself and his relations to the St. Albans 
church than he at any time, before or afterwards, was 
induced to communicate ; as it thus, as well as by its 
other effects and results, brought the man more com- 
pletely out to view, perhaps, than any other incident of 
his life, I have felt bound to set forth the circumstances 
of this case, and the motives of Mr. Smith's action in 
it from first to last, more fully than the affair would 
otherwise, and in itself considered, have required or 
justified. 

The society at Beverly had just erected a new church 
edifice, and having heard of Mr. Smith through a friend, 
the Rev. Mr. Williams, of Salem, and other quarters, as 
a man who would be likely to suit them, they sent for 
him to preach the sermon at the dedication of their 
house of worship. Mr. Smith went, and this short visit 
resulted in a unanimous and urgent request that he 
would come and take upon himself the charge of this 
infant church and society. In their first letter, commu- 
nicating this request to Mr. Smith, the church say: 
" Through your kind compliance with our wishes, we 
have had opportunity to test for ourselves the cor- 
rectness of the representations previously made to us 
of your adaptedness, in all essential particulars, to 
our somewhat peculiar circumstances and wants ; and 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTOX SMITH. 31 

jou may be assured, dear sir, that we exaggerate noth- 
ing when we say that the expectations thus excited 
have been more than realized. In a word, as we look 
back upon our proceedings in this important matter, 
and contemplate the present aspect of our affairs, we 
cannot refrain from saying, c Hitherto hath the Lord 
helped us ; ' nor can we doubt that He to whom, as we 
trust, we have committed ourselves, and whose guid- 
ance, direction, and blessing we have sought at every 
step of our progress, looks with approbation upon the 
effort now made by us to persuade you to take the over- 
sight of this flock. To Him we would look with humble 
confidence to incline your heart to comply with our 
united and earnest request, and direct your way unto 
us, and at the same time to prepare the people of your 
present charge, who have enjoyed the privilege of attend- 
ing on your ministrations, to relinquish their claims to 
the continued enjoyment of this privilege in favor of an 
infant church and congregation urgently in need of the 
advantages to be derived from your experience in the 
ministry." 

In reply to this earnest call from the Washington 
Street Church in Beverly, which Mr. Smith, in view of 
the circumstances under which it was presented, neither 
thought it right to reject without careful deliberation, 
nor courteous to entertain without reasonably submitting 
the same to his church, he consented to take the subject 
into consideration, and finally to refer to a council the 
question of his removal, provided his own church con- 
curred in the measure. 

The council met in April, 1837 ; and the communica- 
tion submitted by the pastor to his church, requesting a 
dismission from the pastoral relation, having been read, 
Mr. Smith, in presenting his own view of the case, 



82 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH 

addressed the council as follows : " In making this re- 
quest, I think I can say that I have acted from no feel- 
ings of discontent with my present situation, much less 
from the least alienation of heart from the people or the 
community generally among whom my lot has been 
cast, and whom, according to the small measure of my 
ability, I have endeavored now for fourteen years to 
serve in the work of the ministry. Unworthy as I have 
ever been of the trust committed to me ' by the laying 
on of the hands of the presbytery,' and imperfectly, both 
in spirit and measure, as I have served the cause of truth 
and righteousness in this church and the associated 
churches, I still trust that, with some sincerity, I can 
say, ' I have preferred this Jerusalem above my chief 
joy ; ' and that in a very humble sense I can adopt the 
language of the great apostle, ' I have not sought yours, 
but you. 1 It is true, indeed, of myself and of those who 
have been for a long time associated with me in the 
ministry of the churches ia this region, that seasons of 
darkness and painful anxiety have gone over us. We 
have seen the churches deeply agitated, Christian con- 
fidence to an alarming extent suspended, ourselves sub- 
jected to a distressing suspicion, and our arduous labors 
and anxieties resulting in little or no perceptible good. 
In these circumstances we have all, doubtless, felt like 
men, and, for one, I can say, furnished too much evi- 
dence that we were men * sanctified but in part.' Still, 
wherever the clouds began to break away, and light 
gilded the perfection of our Zion, our hearts have wel- 
comed the omen, and with freshened hopes and cheerful- 
ness we have addressed ourselves to our Master's work. 
And I would add, that if the will of Christ were clearly 
indicated that I should remain here until I had finished 
my course and the ministry I have received, with the 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 33 

prospect of enjoying the confidence of this church, of 
aiding in promoting ' the order and the steadfastness of 
their faith in Christ,' and of being the unworthy instru- 
ment of turning this people and their children to the 
Lord — nothing, unless I am deceived, would afford 
me higher joy. Of a truth, it is in my heart to live 
and die with them. But the indications of the Lord's 
will, and these prospects of future usefulness, are far from 
being clear to my mind, though they have been the 
subject of much anxious inquiry. Some of the causes 
which, in my judgment, have exerted an adverse influ- 
ence on my labors, and which, to a considerable extent, 
continue to operate, 1 have been the subject of much — 
perhaps too much — free remark in this place, and 
need not be distinctly adverted to. Indeed, on this 
point, I think altercation, or even discussion, at this 
time, would be unprofitable ; and hence I would be 
understood to allude to nothing save what will be cheer- 
fully conceded by all.. Differences, all admit, exist ; — 
these differences impair the confidence of a certain por- 
tion of the church in the labors of their pastor, and hence 
prevent that cordial and confiding cooperation which is 
essential to the usefulness either of the church or of the 
minister. So much, it is thought, may be said without 
incurring the charge of casting unworthy reflections upon 
any one. Let it be conceded that all alike are the 
friends of the work of the Holy Spirit, that all desire 
the advancement of Christ's kingdom, and the salvation 
of men — not that one desires it to advance more rap- 
idly, or is ready to make greater sacrifices for it than 
another ; still, there must be a like-mindedness, a union 
of counsel, union of effort, a mutual confidence, or the 

1 He instances internal disunion and foreign influence. 



34 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

laborers must be separated. Place them together, and 
one will undo the work of the other, and the desires of 
all be frustrated." 

Proceeding then to speak of the church in Beverly, 
he says : " In casting about for a minister, they have 
assumed — what is pretty generally conceded at the 
present day — that ministers are the property of the 
church, and that their field of labor is to be determined 
on grounds of public utility. A local church may call to 
the pastoral office, among them, whom they please ; and 
if the person called is already a pastor, and he, and the 
church over which he is placed, see fit to refer the matter 
to a council, it is competent to that council to release the 
pastor from his charge, that he may be at liberty to ac- 
cept the call that has been proffered him ; and, if suffi- 
cient reasons exist for this measure, they will doubtless 
feel it to be their duty to adopt it. 

" The people of Beverly have seen fit to select myself 
for their minister, as suited to their taste, and, in their 
judgment, to the condition in which they are placed. 
They consider that a man of experience only would 
secure their purposes ; and whether they have judged 
well or ill in the choice they have been pleased to make, 
can be determined only by the events which Divine 
Providence may order. 

" They have extended this call to me under the expec- 
tation that this people would consent to my removal. 
They have been apprised that disunion existed in this 
church to such an extent that I had been induced on 
a former occasion to ask for a dismission ; and they 
naturally inferred that if a people would permit such a 
request to be made, — based, as it was, upon events that 
had for a long time been transpiring before their eyes, 
— they would not be reluctant to have the request 



MEMOIR OF WORTTIIXGTOX SMITH. 35 

granted. They considered that the people had been suf- 
fering their minister, either through design or negligence 
.on their part, to be cast before the public; and hence, 
that those who set a value upon his services, and sought 
to secure them, ought not to be disappointed." 

After describing more particularly the situation and 
circumstances of the church that had given him the call, 
he goes on to say : " In deciding on the relative impor- 
tance of the two fields of ministerial labor, and the 
claims which they who occupy them respectively have 
on the services of a particular minister, a council would 
naturally direct their attention to several points. 

" 1. They would consider the societies themselves — 
their comparative importance as to the number of souls 
that composed them. . . . 

" 2. The council would consider the adaptation of the 
minister, as to his talents and habits, to the character and 
wants of the respective societies. And when experience 
has been had, the result of the experiment made, it would 
seem, must go far in determining this question. Is the 
minister useful where he is ? Has he the confidence of 
the church and society ? Are the church united under 
his labors ? Is it in a growing and prosperous state ? 
Is there a reasonable prospect that, under circumstan- 
ces more auspicious than those in which he is now 
placed, his usefulness would be enlarged in all these 
respects ? 

"3. The council would be called to consider the rela- 
tions of these respective churches to the community 
around them. It will be admitted that a church small 
in itself, may be important from its connection with other 
churches. It may be a centre of ecclesiastical influence 
on a section more or less extensive, and this circumstance 
deservedly adds to its importance. In this respect, I 



36 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

admit that the church in this place, were it true to the 
position Providence has assigned it, has an advantage 
over the one in Beverly. While this place is the seat of 
the courts, and holds its present priority in point of busi- 
ness, this church might, and it would, did God's cause 
excite in it half the interest that trade and money -making 
do, shed forth an influence that would reach every 
hamlet in the county. But it is not to be forgotten that 
what puts force in the hands of a united and single- 
minded church, gives it also, when disunited, and withal 
indifferent, except to measures and parties, a sad pre- 
eminence in the work of mischief. 

"4. The council, also, would naturally consider the 
state of the surrounding churches, and the means of 
instruction enjoyed by the community at large in deter- 
mining a question of the kind proposed. . . . 

" 5. Finally, they would consider the advantages, on 
the one hand, resulting from a thorough knowledge of 
the people, of the peculiar state and wants of the religious 
community, and of an established character and influ- 
ence, which long residence in a place gives to an observ- 
ing and discreet minister ; and, on the other hand, from 
the impetus given to his own mind and labor by change 
of place, from the fruits of his former studies, and from 
the novelty and freshness that attend his ministrations 
to a new people. It is a common remark at the present 
day, and on this account deserves serious considera- 
tion, 'that settled ministers, in the course of a few 
years, use themselves up — exhaust their resources, and 
lose their power to influence a people whom they can no 
longer delight with the novelty of their manner, or 
startle with the eccentricity of their measures.' The 
council must decide how much weight is to be given to 
this doctrine ; still, it cannot be denied, that many minis- 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTOX SMITH. 37 

ters whose usefulness has become questionable, in 
churches where they have long labored, have, by a re- 
moval, become eminently serviceable to the kingdom of 
Christ; and furthermore, it is not to be concealed that 
this doctrine has attained to such prevalence in ecclesi- 
astical councils, that they have suffered it, probably in a 
great majority of cases, to determine questions that have 
been submitted to them for decision. 

" It may, perhaps, be expected that I say a word in 
regard to the present state of the church, and the effect 
which my removal, should it take place, will probably 
have upon them. This church has participated in the 
unhappy excitement that has pervaded our religious com- 
munity for the last two years ; although the great body 
of the church have been united among themselves and 
with their pastor in their views of the question that has 
principally occasioned the agitation. A portion of the 
members, however, were understood to take the opposite 
side, and to be dissatisfied that the church did not adopt 
the improvements supposed to be made in the means of 
evangelizing the world. Discussion ensued, and from 
discussion parties and party feelings arose. The state of 
things was such, six months ago, that I was induced, 
from a conviction that I could not profitably serve a 
church whose opinions and feelings I could not influ- 
ence, to ask for a dismission. This step brought about 
a free and friendly conversation between myself and 
those who were supposed to be disaffected. As the 
result of this interview, a general and decided wish was 
expressed by these brethren that I should remain the 
pastor of the church. That some of these persons have 
since that time respected and confided in me as their 
pastor, and have sincerely sought the unity of the church, 
I fullv believe. 



38 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

" That the church will preserve its unity, and go on 
happily and prosperously under a new pastor, will de- 
pend on the assurance the church may receive that she 
is not in future, as she has been in times past, to be 
agitated and distracted in regard to measures which are 
known to be decidedly repugnant to the sentiments of a 
great proportion of the church. If the minority can be 
content with anything short of agitating the exciting 
questions, I know not what hinders the peace and pros- 
perity of this beloved Zion. That they will exercise 
this forbearance under a new pastor, though of the same 
sentiments, substantially, with those /entertain, may be, 
perhaps, reasonably expected. Whatever of party feel- 
ing or personal disaffection may exist, I should hope 
would be confined to myself, and not transferred to my 
successor." 

From these remarks, in which the merits of the ques- 
tion on both sides are so fairly presented — though 
with a slight tinge of personal feeling — as to resemble 
more the charge to a jury than the argument of an advo- 
cate pleading his own cause, it would be difficult to say 
to which side the wishes of the speaker himself, on the 
whole, inclined. It is but too plain that the council 
were determined in their decision much more by the 
known wishes of the majority of the St. Albans church, 
by the general sentiment of the community in all that 
region, and by their own reluctance to part with the 
most influential minister in their connection, than by 
a patient and careful examination of all the points so 
distinctly and fairly laid before them by the interested 
party. Mr. Smith's own judgment, which, as he sup- 
posed, was really determined by a careful consideration 
of all the aspects of the question as he presented it 
before the council, unquestionably differed from that of 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 39 

the council, who decided that he should remain where 
he was. 1 It was, indeed, mainly with him a question 

1 Cop}' of the result of council. " After a review of the whole subject, 
in all its extended bearings, it appeared that a large majority of the Church, 
and the whole Society, earnestly desire the continuance of Mr. Smith as 
their pastor, and still repose an unabated confidence in his character and 
abilities as their spiritual guide. It appears, also, that there is in this com- 
munity a general sympathy in the desire for his continuance, — that there is 
no deficiency in regard to his support, that there is no professed disagree- 
ment between him and any portion of his flock in regard to doctrine. It 
appears from the representations made to the council, that no difficulty ex- 
ists in the church which ought to be regarded as an obstacle to his contin- 
uance, and which may not be removed by the exercise of a Christian spirit. 

" In view of all these considerations which have been brought before 
them by the parties calling them together, they cannot find reasons to jus- 
tify them in being accessory to the removal of Brother Smith from his 
present charge. 

" While they would cordially sympathize with the desires of those breth- 
ren who have so urgently invited him to another sphere of labor, yet such 
are their views of the importance of the station which he now occupies in 
relation to the interests of truth and all the best interests of society in this 
place, and in an extended region of country, that they cannot give prece- 
dence to another, but upon very clear and decisive grounds. Such are their 
convictions of his past usefulness in sustaining these interests, and of the 
great importance of the influence which he has acquired and now exerts for 
their promotion — so great, in their view, is the need of a continuance of his 
labors here in the cause of Christ, that they cannot, consistently with their 
sense of duty to the church, be instrumental in dissolving the bonds which 
unite him with this people and with themselves in the labors of the gospel. 

"Therefore, Resolved, unanimously, That in the view of this council it 
is inexpedient to dissolve the pastoral relation subsisting between the Rev. 
Worthington Smith and this church and people. 

" Resolved, moreover, That while the council have the convictions above 
expressed, they can but regard with pain every obstacle thrown in the way 
of his usefulness, and earnestly conjure all the members of this church to 
cooperate with and sustain their pastor ; that taking into view the senti- 
ments expressed, as those of all the members of this church, in respect to 
the character, doctrines, and labors of Mr. Smith, they consider all remarks 
and efforts tending to diminish the effect of his ministrations and to depre- 
ciate his public character, as strikingly inconsistent with the sentiments thus 
expressed, and in no way to be justified. 

rf The council consider that the present state of affairs in this beloved 



40 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

as to the comparative prospects, so far as human fore- 
sight could conjecture, of a useful and happy ministry 
among a people wholly united in his favor and ready to 
make any reasonable sacrifice to obtain him, and among 
a people not so perfectly united, who valued him on the 
whole, but not in the same sense, and with the same 
intensity and unanimity of feeling. 

Let us now look at the effects which this decision of 
the council had upon the several interested parties. The 
St. Albans church were, of course, well satisfied with it. 
Moreover, in communicating their acquiescence in the 
result of the council, they took occasion to say, " That 
having been gratified in their wishes by the determina- 
tion of the council, the church are laid under increasing 
obligation to sustain the pastor in his ministerial labors ; 
that they owe it to him, to themselves, and to the great 
Head of the Church, most heartily and sincerely to co- 
operate with the pastor-in his endeavors to promote the 
cause of pure religion in this place ; and that it is the 
solemn duty of every individual member to arouse from 
his stupidity, lay aside all selfishness and worldliness, 
and prepare the way for good to come to the people." 

But the church which had given him the call received 
the announcement of the decision in a spirit which 
touchingly manifested his deep hold on their affections, 
the keenness of their disappointment at this unexpected 

church is one which calls for much prayer and prudence in all its members ; 
they feel that the strength, enlargement, and glory of the church, if not its 
very existeuce, will, under God, very much depend on its union. 

" Such is the result which the council feel constrained to submit to this 
church, praying that the Head of the Church would grant you, according to 
the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with might by his Spirit in the 
inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith, that ye being 
rooted and grounded in love, may know the love of Christ, and be filled 
with all the fulness of God. James Marsh, Moderator," 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTOX SMITH. 41 

rejection of their suit, and a resolute determination to 
leave nothing untried to bring about a reconsideration 
of the case. In a well-written document, directed to 
Mr. Smith, too long to be inserted here, they speak 
first of the effect of his reply, and of the communication 
from the council, upon the party to whom they were 
addressed, — an effect which it would be in vain for them 
to attempt adequately to express. " Seeing our fond 
hopes blasted," they said, " our sanguine expectations 
cut off, we were ready to conclude that the God in whom 
we had trusted, whose guidance we verily believed we 
had sought and followed, and whose presence we thought 
had hitherto been with us, had now utterly forsaken us, 
and that there was no longer any hope that our earnest 
desires for your pastoral services among us would be 
realized. But the midnight darkness thus gathered 
around us was soon, in a measure, alleviated by the 
reflection that this might be, as you suggested, though 
in a different sense, but a trial of our faith, and not 
designed as a rebuke of our presumption, in attempting 
to compass our ends by means not approved of God. 
Least of all, could we doubt for a moment that the 
real object of a righteous Providence, in these apparently 
untoward and afflictive manifestations, was a subject of 
inquiry, in our circumstances at once important and ap- 
propriate." The church go on to say, that, in accordance 
with this view of the existing posture of their affairs, a 
number of special meetings had been held, in which 
members of the church and of the society participated, 
with a view to obtain, by free discussion, an expression 
of the views and feelings of the whole community ; and 
which had resulted in a unanimous determination of the 
church and societv, to " renew their call to the Rev. Mr. 
Smith, in manner and form as already presented to him. ' 
The resolutions communicating this decision were fol- 

4* 



42 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

lowed by a number of explanatory statements and argu- 
ments vindicating this action, and pointing out the serious 
consequences to themselves, in various ways, which must 
ensue if this their second application should be rejected. 

It remains to consider the course taken by Mr. Smith 
in the delicate situation in which he now found himself 
placed. He had, of course, in the letter announcing the 
result of the council to the Washington-street Church, 
signified his own acquiescence in that result, though pro- 
priety forbade his even hinting how far his own indi- 
vidual judgment differed from that of the body who had 
been chosen to advise him. But when, notwithstanding 
this, the disappointed church renewed their call, holding 
up, as they did, among their other reasons for so doing, 
that if they had possessed, at the first, all the informa- 
tion which the council had now communicated to them, 
they should probably have been discouraged from mak- 
ing any attempt to secure Mr. Smith's settlement among 
them. What now had he to say or do ? It was, indeed, 
a case presenting some difficulty, which, to be properly 
and satisfactorily managed and disposed of, required no 
little prudence and delicacy of feeling, as well as firm- 
ness, on the part of the chief sufferer, amidst these 
conflicting claims and interests. 

The following final letter of Mr. Smith to the church 
in Beverly shows how deeply he felt for the people he 
had unintentionally disappointed, how carefully he had 
reconsidered their claims, and how judiciously he knew 
how to present the reasons which forbade him to move 
any further on the subject: 

"To the Committees of the Washington-street Church 

and Society. 

" Gentlemen : The communication of the 15th ult., 
which you did me the honor to transmit, was duly re- 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 43 

ceived, and though detained much longer than I intended 
it should be, it has been almost daily the subject of that 
serious and painful interest to my mind which its im- 
portance, viewed in all its bearings, is calculated to 
awaken. The sentiments of unabated regard which 
breathe in every line of that communication, while I 
am sensible how poorly I deserve them, serve only to 
enhance my sense of obligation to the people who have 
thus reiterated their tokens of friendship, and to deepen 
the regret I feel in being under the necessity of renewing 
the disappointment which I have once before unwillingly 
occasioned them. 

". Truth, I think, will justify me in saying that I 
have endeavored so to present to my mind the claims of 
the church and society whom you represent, as, if possi- 
ble, to see my way clear to comply with their wishes. 
Were I released from my present charge, and removed 
from this section of the country, it would not be difficult 
to see my duty in the direction of Beverly ; but, as 
things now are, the decision, it would seem, must be 
different. 

" In the first place : the decision of the council is in 
my way. Admitting that they are liable to err, still, 
considering that they acted in view of all the light that 
could be obtained, formed their result deliberately, under 
a sense of their responsibility, and after solemn prayer 
for Divine guidance, much weight must deservedly be 
attached to their opinion. It would hardly be safe for 
one's reputation as a man of prudence and order to dis- 
regard their opinion, unless new and important light in 
the case should be discovered, and such as it might be 
presumed would have materially influenced their result. 
The people here cannot be made to acknowledge that 
such additional light is to be found in your second com- 



44 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

munication ; and hence they decline submitting the 
matter for further advice. Those of the council whom I 
have consulted in the case, concur in the same opinion. 
It is evident that no council that could be convened here 
would consent to dismiss me, except on the ground that 
I was determined to go, at all hazards. 

" Again : the present state and prospects of this church 
and people are in the way of my leaving. When I con- 
sented to take your proposal into consideration, I verily 
thought my removal from this field would not be re- 
garded in the light of a calamity. Members of this 
church had participated in the agitations which for the 
last two years have grievously shaken the religious com- 
munity of Vermont. In opposing the popular spirit and 
measures of the times, I had so far lost their confidence, 
that I thought it would be judged best, on prudential 
grounds, that I should retire. But when the matter was 
called up, as it was before the council, it assumed an 
aspect altogether unexpected. Nine-tenths of the con- 
gregation insisted on my staying; and had I been dis- 
missed, the society would have been dismembered. Our 
condition, it is true, is now somewhat changed ; still, the 
most judicious here anticipate sad consequences if I 
should leave them, even now. They sympathize with 
you in your condition ; but still feel that if you could 
understand their case you would not condemn this 
resistance to your wishes. 

" Another circumstance is urged against my removal 
at this time, which is, that within the last few months, 
about one-sixth of the stated ministry in Vermont has 
been broken up. They have mostly retired beyond the 
limits of the state ; others must follow them, and few, 
if any, come in to supply their place. Such are the 
disastrous results of our late experiments. The conclu- 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 45 

sion urged from this fact is, that those who can stay 
ought to stay, at least till the times change for the better. 
" I might add other considerations, which have had 
greater or less weight on my mind ; but it is not mate- 
rial to enumerate them. Enough, I trust, has been said 
to convince you of my integrity, though I am con- 
strained, as before, to decline the invitation which you 
have so generously, and with such flattering unanimity, 
presented to me the second time. I feel a confidence, 
not in the least abated, that your cause will prosper. I 
believe God is with you, and this thought, more than 
anything else, has made me feel that it would be safe 
and pleasant to cast in my lot with you. This God 
will cause his face to shine upon you, and will keep you, 
and ere long will set before you the man himself has 
chosen. To his faithful care and the good word of his 
grace I would again most affectionately commend the 
interests of your church and society." 

Thus the correspondence on this matter, and its his- 
tory, terminated ; and no one, I am confident, will, on 
reflection, think that it occupies a disproportionate space, 
or that the documents relating to it should have been 
omitted or abbreviated. Those from Mr. Smith himself 
are, in a certain sense and so far as they go, autobio- 
graphical. The first paper, especially, — I mean the 
address to the council, — was one in which he could not 
avoid speaking of himself, and of giving a part of the 
history of his mind during two of the most trying and 
eventful years of his ministry. The case was one well 
calculated to bring out all that was either noble or faulty 
in his nature. It moreover elicited from him a very 
clear and explicit statement, before his brethren of the 
clergy, of what he thought every minister was entitled 



46 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

to expect from all the members of his church, as the 
condition of any reasonable hope of benefiting either 
them or the congregation generally by his public minis- 
trations. The resolution of the charch, at the end of 
these proceedings, which has been quoted above, shows 
that they felt and appreciated the justness of these 
remarks of their pastor, made on so solemn an occasion. 
This event brought about, in fact, a better understanding 
of views and feelings on both sides ; and harmony being 
thus restored on a solid foundation, and new confidence 
and courage inspired, the future course of Mr. Smith's 
ministerial labors, to their termination among that people, 
was marked by a kindliness of feeling, on the part of 
both pastor and flock, which continually cemented the 
bond of union between them. 

Mr. Smith, as it may here be remarked, was never 
inclined to hold the tie which binds a minister to the 
particular flock over which he has once been placed as 
pastor in so slight estimation as some affect to regard 
it. On the contrary, he cherished and constantly de- 
fended the principle, that the relation thus formed " is so 
sacred, and attended with such solemn responsibilities 
on both sides, as to render any attempt to disturb or dis- 
solve it unnecessarily, eminently hazardous, both to the 
ministry and to the churches." If his remarks on this 
point before the council are carefully examined, it will be 
seen that they are entirely consistent with what is here 
asserted. Nor, if the circumstances are duly weighed, 
will his own application for a dismissal prove that his 
practice was in contradiction to his principles. He 
asked to be dismissed on what he himself judged to be 
good and sufficient grounds, but with entire submission 
of his own judgment to that of an impartial council. 
And he settled down upon their decision ; for although, 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 47 

during the ensuing years of his ministry, he was still 
repeatedly solicited to leave his people, and enter other 
fields sufficiently inviting to any man who was of a 
really uneasy spirit, he did not hesitate a moment 
to discourage all such applications by a peremptory 
refusal. 

Yet he was ever ready to assume such official rela- 
tions as were tendered to him, at home or from abroad, 
of which the duties, however onerous, were deemed by 
him compatible with the full discharge of those which 
he owed to his own people. As early as 1825 he was 
appointed a member of the Board of Trustees of Mid- 
dlebury College. In the same year he was appointed a 
member of the corporation of the University of Ver- 
mont, and accepted. He was for many years President 
of the Board of Trustees of the Franklin County Gram- 
mar School, in which capacity he did much to promote 
the interests of education in his community. In 1846 
he was appointed County Superintendent of Common 
Schools, and during the winter of that year visited all 
the schools in the county, examining into their condi- 
tion, of which he drew up a carefully prepared statistical 
account. 

His connection with the University of Vermont, as a 
member of the corporation, fell in a period of its history 
which, beyond all others it has ever passed through, 
called for wisdom, energy, and decision on the part of 
the body to whom the general management of its con- 
cerns is entrusted. It is impossible tp say how much 
the institution is indebted to Mr. Smith for the deep 
interest he then took in its welfare — his clear discern- 
ment and steady advocacy of those measures which 
were best suited to promote it. At the extraordinary 
meetings of the Board, in critical times, his presence 



48 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

was never missing. Perhaps there was no individual 
member of the corporation whose opinion had more 
weight with the whole body. He took large views of 
education, as a vital interest of the state, to be raised 
up, and kept at its proper level in a community, only by 
cherishing its higher institutions. Of the propriety and 
practicability of sustaining the oldest collegiate founda- 
tion in Vermont, he never had any doubts. He was 
therefore a bold and hopeful as well as prudent and 
cautious adviser. It is no more than just and right to 
say of all the other officers of the Board at the time 
referred to, — several of whom have, with the subject of 
this memoir, already gone from their earthly labors, — 
that during the worst times in the history of this college 
they ever kept up good heart and hope. But it cannot 
be denied that Mr. Smith was the one who presented 
such grounds for encouragement to a system of vigorous 
and enterprising action, as infused new life into the 
body. In regard to measures for increasing the useful- 
ness of the institution, he was inclined to favor such as 
were on the largest and most liberal scale. In regard to 
questions of discipline, whenever they came before the 
Board, — as they sometimes did, — he was an adVocate 
for the greatest moderation consistent with the preser- 
vation of good order. In regard to college officers, he 
was for placing the best men that could be found in the 
several departments of instruction, and paying them 
liberally ; and to maintain the cause of religion and a 
right religious spirit in the institution, he was for having 
one officer who, in connection with other and lighter 
duties, might regularly preach to the students in the 
college chapel. 

When the seat of President of this institution was 
vacated by the resignation of Dr. Wheeler, in 1849, it 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIN'GTON SMITH. 49 

was not necessary to look far in quest of a suitable man 
to fill his place. Mr. Smith, who had already, in 1845, 
received from the corporation the degree of D. D., in 
testimony of their high appreciation of him as a man 
and a scholar, was appointed to the vacant office. At 
first he declined. Afterwards, when it came to be repre- 
sented to him that unanimity in the choice of a presid- 
ing officer could not easily be secured in the case of any 
other nomination, he consented to reconsider the matter ; 
and finally, to the general regret of the church and com- 
munity with whom he had so long been connected, and 
who were now, as before, exceedingly unwilling to part 
with him, he accepted the appointment. The failure of 
his organs of speech, now worn and enfeebled by long 
and constant public speaking, was an argument, both to 
himself and his friends, in favor of his trying the experi- 
ment of a change of labor, in a vocation where there 
would be less occasion for a constant strain upon the 
voice. 

As by accepting this appointment Dr. Smith withdrew 
from the regular calling of a parish minister, I have 
thought it would be proper, before passing to the history 
of his short but eminently useful life at the head of a 
college, to take a brief survey of his character and mer- 
its as a preacher of the gospel, as a pastor among his 
own people, and as a minister whose counsel and advice 
were universally sought, in all this region, and occa- 
sionally from farther abroad, in matters pertaining to the 
prosperity of the church and the general interests of 
religion. The estimation of his character in other re- 
spects and relations may be more appropriately consid- 
ered in the review of his whole life, which shall form the 
conclusion of this memoir. 

The period now to be considered constituted nearly 

5 



50 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

one-half, taken out of the best part of his life — that in 
which his powers of body and of mind were ' in their 
highest state of vigor. His health, never perfectly good, 
was now in a comparatively sound condition, and he 
took great pains to keep it so by constant labor out of 
doors. In later life, he was accustomed to remark, that 
he was more robust at forty than at twenty years of age, 
and that he had made what constitution he had, by daily 
exercise in the open air. Still, however, he was subject, 
even during this period, to frequent and sometimes severe 
attacks of indisposition ; and in his large family of chil- 
dren, cases of illness were almost constantly occurring. 
At such times of sickness in the family, he was alwaj^s 
on hand, and unsparing in his services. His habit of 
receiving and entertaining a great deal of company also 
subjected him to many interruptions, and sometimes, no 
doubt, to a loss of time which he could ill afford to 
spare. But an untiring industry enabled him, in good 
measure, to make up for the time thus lost. As it was 
said of George Stephenson, the railroad engineer, that 
the secret of his success in life was his readiness in 
turning every spare minute to profit, so it might be said 
of the St. Albans minister, that he accomplished what- 
ever he was enabled to do in his greater work, by mak- 
ing the most of the smallest fragments of his time. 
And it is wonderful to think how much he brought 
about. Besides doing a great deal of hard work out of 
doors, — partly for the love of it, partly for the sake of 
his health, and partly, perhaps, from those motives to 
economy which his large family would naturally in- 
spire, — he was in the regular habit of writing two ser- 
mons a week, each carefully thought out and written to 
the last word. Outside of the time thus employed, — 
to which must be added the many hours and sometimes 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 51 

days spent in parochial visitations, or in attending coun- 
cils and meetings of other bodies, — he contrived to find 
sufficient leisure for a great amount of reading and 
study, by which he kept fairly up with the progress of 
the times in all the learning and literature in which he 
was more specially interested. He was one of those 
few who understand how to make time, by order and 
method, by always having something on hand to do, 
and a set time in which to do it. Every hour had its 
allotted occupation. Yet he was not so strictly formal 
in the observance of these arrangements that he could 
not bear to have them interrupted. Many a time have 
his parishioners or persons from abroad called upon him 
at the close of the week, when he was deeply engaged 
on his sermons, and after having spent hours in conver- 
sation with him, retired, without even suspecting that he 
had suffered any inconvenience from the interruption, — 
so truly polite was he, so ever ready to think less of his 
own convenience than of any service or pleasure he 
could render to others. 1 

This economizing of time, this habit — with him a 
second nature — of doing everything in the season for it, 
enabled him to accomplish a great deal more in the work 
which was his greatest delight than many could easily 
account for. Says one of the deacons of his church : 
" When I reflect on the amount of ministerial labor 
which he performed here, I am amazed, both as respects 
the abundance of his resources and his capability of 
endurance. He never claimed the vacation usually 
accorded to pastors of churches; and his occasional 
visits to his native place were so arranged that he was 
not absent over two or three Sabbaths at a time. He 

1 For these particulars I am indebted to members of the family. 



52 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

seldom exchanged pulpits with his ministerial brethren, 
bat was always at his post, bringing out two thoroughly 
studied discourses every Sabbath. I cannot call to 
mind a single occasion when he was a moment behind 
time. Promptly to the minute his service was com- 
menced, whether the congregation were assembled or 
not." 

I now proceed to speak of the character of his ordi- 
nary preaching. And on this point but one testimony 
is to be heard from those who sat under it. Different 
individuals among his constant hearers would, of course, 
be differently affected — some by one thing, others by 
another; but the same general impression of truthful 
earnestness, deep spiritual knowledge, fair and forcible 
presentation of it, was left upon all alike. The follow- 
ing extracts, which I have taken the liberty to select 
from several letters kindly submitted to my inspection, 
will serve to convey a little more distinct notion, per- 
haps, of what this impression was. 

" In every discourse," says one of these letters, " the 
hearer was impressed with a sense of the preacher's inti- 
mate knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, with the clear- 
ness of his views, and with the depth of his interest in 
all the great truths of Christianity. He set forth Christ, 
both in his divinity and in his humanity, and with a 
power seldom displayed." 

" I know and feel now in my inmost soul," says the 
writer of another, " what words of wisdom fell from his 
lips as a teacher, the unanswerable logic with which he 
sustained the truth and defeated error. He was literally 
a watchman, looking out in advance, observant of the 
signs of the times, and by timely preventure warding off 
many evils and errors which threatened his people in 
the distance. These things mean a great deal to me ; 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 53 

nor do I ever forget the words of comfort which always 
came as balm from his lips to the sorrowful." 

" If there was one feature," says a professional man, 
and a member of his society, " that distinguished him as 
a preacher, it was his power in portraying the develop- 
ment of Christian life and character, drawn from and 
illustrated by examples furnished by the pages of inspi- 
ration. Who that has heard him expatiate with his own 
peculiar enthusiasm on the life and character of the 
great apostle Paul, has not sometimes ventured the 
thought that he closely approximated the apostle in the 
power and unction of his words ? To many of us in 
the sere of life will memory recall the past, the long 
past incidents of the religious conference, when world- 
weary, perhaps, we have listlessly joined the sparse 
assemblage, and have been startled from our sleepy indif- 
ference by the fervor and tender pathos of his unstudied 
eloquence, and resolved anew that we would ' seek first 
the kingdom of God and his righteousness.' " 1 

" His bearing in the pulpit," says the same person, in 
a letter to me, " though entirely free from all factitious 
solemnity of countenance and voice, was uniformly such 
as to carry conviction at once to his audience that he 
was indeed a messenger of God, and that he was only 
intent on the faithful discharge of his trust. There was 
always a chastened sobriety in his manner, even during 
his most thrilling appeals, and such a palpable uncon- 
sciousness of himself, that even captious listeners were 
made equally unconscious of the messenger by the 
weight and power of the message." 

And in reference to his peculiar gift in conducting the 
services of public worship, this correspondent remarks : 

1 Extract from Dr. Chandler's notice of President Smith, published in 
the "St. Albans Messenger" at the time of his death. 
5* 



54 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTOX SMITH. 

" In order fully to appreciate him as a pastor, one would 
need to be comprised in his flock — to be subject to the 
infirmities which lead too many, through the week, to 
remissness in duty, and to such assimilations to the 
world, that its interests have well-nigh monopolized the 
best places in our hearts. Under such circumstances, 
how often, on a quiet Sabbath morning, have /repaired 
almost reluctantly to the house of God, with the feeling 
that my whole life and being was a barren waste, a 
stony, sterile enclosure, on which all religious culture 
must be thrown away ! and how often have I been 
startled, during the pastor's morning prayer, with his 
own seeming consciousness of the same alienation of 
heart and soul — the same sense of ingratitude for mer- 
cies abused and for privileges spurned ! And O, how 
gladly have I striven to follow in his steps to the foot of 
the Cross ! His prayers were not a lesson to be said, 
but an emotion to be felt ; and if the exercise of any one 
function in the pastoral office may claim precedence, as 
an agency for good in Dr. Smith's parish, I think it may 
be his prayers, both in the congregation and with the 
afflicted, the sick, and the dying." 

He sometimes preached without notes, though in gen- 
eral his discourses on such occasions had been carefully 
thought out, and arranged into method beforehand. 
" His congregation," says one of his hearers, " were rather 
partial to what they called his extemporaneous dis- 
courses ; and, except that he was not obliged to turn his 
eyes from the audience to his notes, there was no appar- 
ent difference between these and his written sermons. 
There was, perhaps, more glow and freshness in his 
manner on such occasions, and he never seemed to hesi- 
tate a moment for thoughts, or language in which to 
clothe his thoughts." 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTOX SMITH. 55 

There were other occasions, however, when it was 
plainly evident that the whole discourse was strictly ex- 
temporaneous, and without any premeditation. " Then," 
says another of his hearers, " he would commence and 
go forward with a steady flow of beautiful and impres- 
sive language, without even hesitating a moment in the 
choice of a word, or repeating a sentence for the pur- 
pose of improving it or making it more plain." 

A story is told of a great effect once produced by him 
by a sudden display of this off-hand style of speaking, 
which, as it at the same time shows the deep interest 
he took from the first in the temperance movement, is 
worth repeating. Sometime in the early part of his 
ministry, after having preached all day, he attended an 
evening meeting held by the people of the village to 
discuss the then new subject of temperance. Having 
come to hear and not to take any part in the discussion, 
he sat, wrapped up in his cloak, in a remote corner of 
the room. It was a large meeting, attended by a fair 
representation of the influential men of the place. As 
the discussion went on, the balance of the argument 
began gradually to lean more and more to the wrong 
side of the question ; and finally one of the leading 
men threw the weight of his influence on the side of the 
inclining scale. The minister, who had thus far sat 
apart, attentively listening to the debate, here grew 
uneasy, rose in his place, advanced forward in his cloak, 
and began to speak in his usual calm and deliberate 
manner. But gradually warming with his argument, 
his cloak fell, first from one shoulder, then from the 
other, and at last dropped to his feet. He began by 
gently remonstrating against such views as he had just 
heard expressed; represented the sad consequences of 
opposition, by men of station and influence, to measures 



56 MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 

aiming solely to promote sobriety and to abate one of the 
most threatening social evils of the time ; then proceeded 
to consider what might be said on the other side of the 
question, which he presented with such an array of forci- 
ble and glowing argument, as disarmed opposition for 
that time, and inaugurated a new day for the cause of 
temperance in St. Albans. " We may as well stop 
here," said one of the speakers on the other side as 
he left the meeting, " for what is the use of arguing a 
point where we must always have Mr. Smith for an 
opponent ? " 

But his most eloquent and powerful efforts in extem- 
poraneous speaking, according to the observer last 
quoted, were at the communion table. " It was here 
that, when warmed with the awful subject of Jesus suf- 
fering and dying for ' man the creature's sin,' his face 
seemed to shine. His massive intellect seemed to find 
full enlargement amidst the great mysteries attending 
the incarnation of the Son of God; and his people 
were fed as with manna and fatness." 

" I have wished," says the faithful friend who collected 
together the documents upon which this account of Dr. 
Smith's ministerial life are mainly founded — "I have 
wished that some one of those who were accustomed to 
participate in the solemnities of our communion seasons, 
could give a just and truthful impression of him as he 
appeared on such occasions. Standing at the table 
spread with the symbols of the Saviour's body broken 
and his blood shed for the remission of sins, the great 
mystery of man's redemption seemed revealed to his 
faith in its surpassing fulness and glory ; and the words 
that fell from his lips stirred to their very depths the 
hearts of those who heard him. And such was the fact 
uniformly ; for although these sacred festivals were of 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 57 

frequent occurrence, he always came to them with — as 
it seemed to us — a fresh inspiration from the Holy 
Spirit, taking of the things of Christ and showing them 
unto him, and unto us through him. I remember with 
what tenderness and solemnity he said, on one of these 
occasions, " We come to this table, brethren beloved in 
the Lord, to renew our covenant obligations to each 
other and to Him of whom the whole family in heaven 
and earth are named. We come to hold sweet com- 
munion, not only with the Master of the feast, but with 
those also who have gone up from these seats to see the 
King in his beauty, and to be forever with the Lord." 
.And on another occasion : " This ordinance, my breth- 
ren, is a memorial;" and pointing to the distant graves 
in the cemetery, " as those marble monuments record the 
names and perpetuate the remembrance of our departed 
friends, so this supper, instituted by his own appoint- 
ment, is a monument, sacred to the memory of Him who 
died for us and rose again, and is now set on the right 
hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens, and 
ever liveth to make intercession for us." The large 
attendance of those outside the membership of the 
church, and the thoughtfulness and solemnity which at 
these seasons seemed to pervade the assembly, indicated 
with what fervor and tenderness these services were 
conducted." 

To give more variety and freedom to the method of 
instruction from the pulpit, he would sometimes resort 
to a familiar exposition of a chapter or part of a chapter 
from the Bible. Very few preachers at the present day 
would venture, perhaps, to try the experiment of this 
expository preaching before their audiences, though it 
seems to have been the most common method in the 
early times of the church, as it will doubtless become so 



58 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

again, whenever the spirit of those times shall return. 
But the following vote in the record of the St. Albans 
church for 1830, shows that Dr. Smith succeeded in mak- 
ing it interesting enough to draw forth a petition for its 
continuance : " Voted, To request the pastor to pursue 
the course adopted by him for the last two Sabbaths, of 
occupying half the day, each Sabbath, in expounding 
the Scriptures ; and that notice of this request be given 
to the congregation." I have been told that he bestowed 
more time and care upon these expositions than upon 
his ordinary sermons. 

His habits of composing and writing his sermons, as 
I am informed by Mrs. Smith, were somewhat peculiar.. 
He could not, like some ministers, appropriate a. portion 
of several successive days to this labor, giving the re- 
maining hours of such days to other avocations. When 
he had fixed upon a theme for a discourse, he became 
absorbed in it, and would not willingly suffer his mind 
to be diverted from it, even for an hour. He thought 
and wrote rapidly ; and some of his most effective 
sermons were composed and written in eight or nine 
hours. 

There can be little doubt that such discourses, rapidly 
but not therefore carelessly composed, under the heat 
and glow of a concentrated interest in the subject, and 
of a specific object to be accomplished, are the best 
proof of a preacher's real ability. They bring out all 
the force and talent a man has, to make whatever knowl- 
edge and experience he may possess available. They 
try the depth of his convictions and of his interest in the 
matter on hand. More elaborate sermons, written for 
the world at large, or under circumstances which compel 
a man to be constantly thinking of his reputation, may 
display ability of another sort, but not certainly of that 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 59 

kind which persons of true taste and good sense would 
prefer to see exhibited by a preacher of the gospel. 

That, in Dr. Smith's estimation, the predicatorial 
office stood infinitely above all other offices and duties 
of a Christian minister — that every other qualification 
ought, in his opinion, to be held in strict subordination 
to this, and, if necessary, sacrificed to it — is evident, both 
from his own practice and the advice he gave to others. 
In practice, he quickly appropriated to himself the great- 
est proportion of his available time in qualifying himself, 
by reading, meditation, and study, for discharging, to the 
best of his ability, this duty of preaching the word. All 
who applied to him for advice on this matter he ex- 
horted to do the same. A young minister once called 
on him for the express purpose of drawing out his opin- 
ions on the subject of the right distribution of his labors 
by a pastor who was desirous of doing the most good 
to his people. I give only the substance of his reply, as 
it was set down afterwards from memory. He thought 
" that every man who was competent to take upon him- 
self the spiritual charge of a people ought to be the best 
judge of the time which should be devoted to each part 
of his work. No general rule, which would be equally 
applicable to all cases, could be laid down. The sick, 
the afflicted, and the inquiring", should be carefully looked 
after, while a general knowledge and oversight of the 
whole flock should be kept up. "We cannot expect to 
satisfy everybody ; for were a man to spend his ivhole 
time in visiting, still there would be some to complain 
that he did not visit enough ; and more, that he showed 
an undue partiality for a certain set or certain families. 
The difference in the result of spending time in visiting 
and in study is usually this : in the one case, a few per- 
sons only have all the benefit of the minister's conversa- 



60 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

tion ; in the other, the whole congregation share alike of 
his best thoughts." 

" Observation," he continued, " has fully convinced me 
that those ministers are the most useful who stand high 
as being able sermonizers, rather than excellent pastors. 
These two qualifications, indeed, are rarely to be found 
combined in the same individual. The pulpit is emi- 
nently the place of a minister's power, and his people 
will excuse him for not visiting them as often as they 
would like, if they know that he is really at work for 
their benefit." 

" But," said he, " whichever you may make prominent 
in your ministry, the pulpit or the parish, don't be a 
gossiping minister. I have known some who have 
fallen insensibly into this vicious habit ; but they thereby 
rendered their pastoral labors of little value — in fact, 
destroyed all their influence. Avoid that error." 

We are not to conclude, however, from such remarks, 
that Dr. Smith was disposed to undervalue parochial 
visitation — that he himself did not seek, as he found 
time and opportunity, to enter into the families of his 
congregation, and to make himself personally acquainted 
with the spiritual condition of every individual in it. 
He sought to do this ; and, moreover, sought how he 
might do it in a way the most unexceptionable, and at 
the same time the most beneficial. He made no formal 
thing of it — was neither over-courteous nor too fami- 
liar. His sole object was to confer some needed spir- 
itual benefit ; and with his knowledge of human nature, 
and ready tact in adapting himself to persons of all 
classes and conditions, he easily succeeded in finding his 
way at last to the hearts of those whom he desired 
to benefit, and of securing their entire confidence and 
love. 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. Gl 

" I recollect," says Mrs. Smith, — who of course took 
an affectionate interest in all this part of her husband's 
labors, — "an instance in which he was called by the 
parents of an only daughter, who was very sick, to visit 
her. She was a young girl of fourteen, and to all ap- 
pearance rapidly passing away by pulmonary consump- 
tion. As she never spoke of her own case, her friends 
were in doubt whether she was really aware of the hope- 
less tendency of her disease. Being very desirous that 
Mr. Smith should call and converse with her, they pro- 
posed it to the daughter; but in her feeble, sensitive 
condition she shrunk from the very thought of such an 
interview. Mr. Smith, however, called, and, sitting down 
by the sick girl's bedside, asked her a few questions, in 
his own gentle way, and, after reading the fourteenth 
chapter of John's Gospel, commended her in prayer to 
the God of all grace and consolation. As he took leave, 
she whispered to her father to ask Mr. Smith to come 
again the next day; and from that time she watched 
eagerly for the return of his visits, until her death, when 
she left consoling evidence to her friends that she ' slept 
in Jesus.' " This story may serve to correct the impres- 
sion that Dr. Smith failed in the particular duty of 
pastoral visitation. 

He was skilful in dealing with persons awakened to 
reflection and serious inquiry, and with those just com- 
mencing the Christian life. His shrewdness enabled 
him readily to penetrate the state of their feelings ; and 
his counsels were judicious, and easily comprehended. 
A young man, recently converted, was subject to great 
depression of spirits. Dr. Smith inquired of him how 
he got along. He replied that he found the Christian 
path a thorny one. " The thorns," said Dr. Smith, "lie 
outside the path, I believe." 



62 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

" In his general bearing towards his people," says one 
of his parishioners, " there was nothing assuming, noth- 
ing in his manner to repel or intimidate those who 
might deem themselves his inferiors in intellectual 
ability, and to prevent them from conversing with him 
freely, and profiting by his superior wisdom." Great 
gentleness of manner characterized his deportment, and 
a refinement of feeling which never permitted him to 
wound the sensibility of any with whom he associated. 
The contrast between his quiet, unpretending conversa- 
tion and his powerful denunciation of sin and error from 
the pulpit, was very marked." 

" Dr. Smith's demeanor," says another parishioner, 
" was such, in all places and under all circumstances, as 
to secure the respect and confidence of all classes. 
Every one, Protestant or Catholic, believed him to be 
a man in whom it was safe to confide. He was the 
perfect Christian gentleman. While it was well under- 
stood that he Was firm as Mount Atlas in what he 
believed to be essential truth, it was also well known 
that he was a man of enlarged and liberal charity. He 
always put the best construction possible upon the 
actions of others ; and when he supposed the intention 
to be good, did not narrowly criticize the form of the 
action itself. He was a man of great practical wisdom. 
He saw consequences before they appeared to others, 
and was useful in deterring his people from entering 
upon measures which, although they seemed to promise 
well, would have resulted in disappointment to their 
most sanguine advocates. He was a thoroughly sincere 
man. Nothing that pointed to the cloaking of offensive 
truth, to make religion less distasteful to the ungodly ; 
nothing like machinery to produce effect in working 
upon the animal feelings, received any favor from him. 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 63 

He used to say, ' You cannot trick men into the king- 
dom of heaven.' " 

In looking after the interests of his own flock, Dr. 
Smith was above indulging in himself, or countenancing 
in any of his people, that little spirit of bitterness and 
jealousy which fosters strife between Christians of dif- 
ferent denominations. In what sense the " enlarged and 
liberal charity" attributed to him by a member of his 
own church is probably meant, may be illustrated by the 
following extract, which — with leave — I make from a 
letter to Mrs. Smith, by a lady of high character and 
standing, formerly a resident in St. Albans, but not a 
member of Dr. Smith's church : " On one point I can 
speak from personal knowledge, and with deep and 
hearty gratitude to our Heavenly Father, who made him 
the instrument of much good to us who were outside 
of his flock. To Dr. Smith, under Providence, were we 
all indebted for the absence of unchristian strife and 
contention during many years. During the infancy of 
the Episcopal parish, and even some years after we were 

under the ministry of Mr. H , there were sources of 

irritation in constant operation, and which produced a 
deep bitterness of feeling. But during all that time Dr. 
Smith was above reproach or censure ; and I well re- 
member that even the most jealous and sensitive of our 
people never complained of him. Indeed, when I recall 
the past, with all the peculiar circumstances of that 
time, his wisdom, as well as his Christian kindness, seem 
to me marvellous. Perhaps even you do not know all 
the bitter feelings which were then striving for mastery 
among us. 

" Never shall I forget his sending for Mr. N to 

officiate at the funeral of one of your little ones ; nor the 
time when Dr. Smith came to our church and performed 



64 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

the burial service over one of Mr. N 's family. These 

are at all times unusual circumstances ; but there were 
peculiarities then in our condition which made them of 
great significance. Of his wisdom in the concerns of 
your own parish I can only speak as an outsider, but as 
one who saw enough to convince me that it is more 
indebted to him than to any other human being." 

It would be leaving out an important point if in this 
connection nothing should be said of the prudent, self- 
denying, self-controlling course pursued by Dr. Smith, in 
his efforts to preserve " the unity of the Spirit in the 
bonds of peace" within the pale of his own church and 
community. In his church, particularly in the early 
part of his ministry, it could not ever be said that all 
the elements mingled kindly together. Indeed, of what 
church, since the days of the apostles, can it truly be 
said that charity — this only bond of perfectness — has 
so abounded as to exterminate every latent seed of strife 
and contention? At the time Dr. Smith was set over 
the church in St. Albans, old divisions seemed to be 
laid aside and forgotten, and all, as has been said before, 
were apparently united together in one sentiment of love, 
confidence, and respect towards the man of their choice. 
Bat too soon, like many others, he had occasion to say, 
" Where is then the blessedness ye spake of? for I bare 
you record, that if it had been possible ye would have 
plucked out your own eyes, and have given them to me. 
Am I therefore become your enemy because I tell you 
the truth ? " Uncompromising fidelity will ever bring to 
light the bad leaven which needs to be purged out of 
that very imperfect body, a visible church community. 
A man like Dr. Smith, in whom the love of order was, 
so to speak, an inbred passion, could not help being 
deeply pained when the first symptoms of disaffection 



MEMOIR OF WORTRTNGTON SMITH. Cjr> 

and distrust towards him, and towards his steady course 
of procedure in managing the spiritual concerns of his 
flock, arose. The great trouble and anxiety which such 
a state of things produced in his mind has already been 
sufficiently alluded to in connection with his second 
application to the church for a dismissal. Before this 
time, he had conducted himself with a prudence, a mod- 
eration, and discreet forbearance which can scarcely be 
too highly commended. He trusted more to the silent 
influence of a firm, but gentle adherence to the way 
which he felt assured was the only right and safe course 
to be pursued, than to a noisy, overbearing zeal. And 
so afterwards, when a better feeling began to manifest 
itself. He said but little, ever manifested a kind dis- 
position towards his opponents, steadily pursued his 
own course, and patiently waited for those effects to be 
brought about by time which over-hasty action on his 
part might have put off to an indefinite period, if not 
prevented altogether. 

Here, and before passing on to the next thing to be 
considered in this review of his ministerial life, a word 
may be said of Dr. Smith's manner in the pulpit, and of 
his appearance generally as a public speaker. His man- 
ner of speaking was deliberate and grave, yet earnest 
and forcible. His enunciation was slow, measured, and 
somewhat monotonous, with few inflections, and little 
strongly-marked emphasis ; yet, on the whole, it was 
neither tedious nor unpleasant, because he for the most 
part had something to say important enough to make 
distinctness in the utterance of it the most desirable 
quality. A low-toned and ponderous voice suited with 
the gravity of his thoughts. He preserved at all times a 
remarkably even flow and uninterrupted sequence of 

words and sentences, whether speaking with or without 

6# 



66 MEMOIR OF WORTIIINGTON SMITH. 

notes. His public prayers were peculiarly distinguished, 
not only for elevation and pertinency of matter, but also 
for the simplicity, reverence, and fervor of spirit in which 
they were offered. 

Thus far we have contemplated the minister in his 
parish and among his own people. We may now con- 
sider him in another point of view — as moderator of 
the Congregational church generally in this part of the 
state ; for so he might in a certain sense be called. He 
was summoned to act for other churches in more than 
sixty different councils during the period between 1823 
and 1854. In how many other cases he was consulted 
by letter, it is impossible for me to say; only I have 
good reason for thinking that he was so in nearly every 
case of unusual difficulty. It is natural to suppose that 
a man whose advice was in such general request must 
somehow have formed for himself a good reputation for 
knowledge and sagacity in relation to the matters about 
which he was consulted. His somewhat central posi- 
tion to a large number of churches in the northwestern 
portion of the state was a favorable one for calling out 
whatever powers of this sort he might possess. But a 
cautious and respectful moderation, a facility of pene- 
trating into motives, an undeviating regard for truth, — 
qualities often displayed by him in the management and 
settlement of difficult questions, — had gradually given 
him an authority among his brethren in the ministry, to 
which few others could make equal pretensions. 

It may be said that Dr. Smith had a natural aptitude 
for business of this nature. He belonged, by inclination 
and habit, to the judicial order of men in the church. 
He was quick to seize upon the real merits of a case, to 
separate from it everything irrelevant, and fix at once 
upon the essential points at issue. " He had," says one, 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTOX SMITH. 67 

" that first quality of a good and safe reasoner — straight- 
forward, inflexible honesty. He would not, as I firmly 
believe, deviate from the truth to please any ether per- 
son or to gain any advantage for himself. The ends 
which he could not achieve by fair means he would not 
achieve at all. He came to his conclusions by a careful 
process, and therefore could not be easily induced to 
abandon them after their decided adoption. Yet when 
new evidence could be presented, his mind was open to 
receive it, and prepared to give it all the weight to which 
it was fairly entitled." This integrity, combined as it 
was in him with great clearness of judgment and can- 
dor, qualified him, of themselves, to be a very safe 
adviser in most of the cases where, amongst brethren, 
one man or set of men has " a matter against another." 
But he had, besides, taken pains to acquire by careful 
study an extensive knowledge of the constitution and 
government of the church in all times, of different forms 
of church polity, of the action of the laws of the state 
upon the church, and especially of the customs and 
usages established by the practice of the Congregational 
churches of New England. He considered these sub- 
jects to be worthy of much more careful attention than 
had usually been bestowed on them by ministers of his 
own denomination, on whose enlightened vigilance and 
care so many interests connected with the right guidance 
of the church must necessarily depend. Other churches 
have their regular series of tribunals, or their canons and 
rules, their settled modes of proceeding adjusted for every 
emergency that can arise. The more simple constitu- 
tion of congregational church government dispenses 
w^ith most of this apparatus which is so apt to degen- 
erate into mere forms. Yet the essential end — to pre- 
serve decency and order within the household of faith — 



68 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

is as dear to the Congregational church as to any other. 
But if we resort to more simple means to secure this 
end, still these means, whatever they are, should be 
thoroughly understood in their spirit by those who have 
the oversight of the churches. 

Sixty councils, distributed through a ministry of about 
thirty years, may not be thought a very large number ; 
and many of these, probably, were only ordaining coun- 
cils. But who can tell how many important questions 
were brought forward, how many affairs of vital interest 
to particular churches and to the church at large were 
settled, how many wrongs redressed, how much evil pre- 
vented, how much good effected by those councils, were 
they more or less ? One evil, at least, of notorious mag- 
nitude, well characterized by a minister belonging to 
another state as " a madness of fanaticism which at one 
time threatened the peace and order of the oldest and 
most respectable churches of Vermont," was effectually 
checked by resolutions from the pen of Dr. Smith, and 
adopted by the whole body of ministers constituting the 
Northwestern Association. 

But, as stated before, Dr. Smith's opinion on impor- 
tant questions of church government and action was 
often requested by letter ; and, it may be added, from 
both clergymen and laymen. As some readers may 
have a curiosity to know what sort of questions were 
thus proposed, and how they were answered ; and more 
especially as Dr. Smith's answers in reply to such ques- 
tions show in a striking light, as it seems to this writer, 
the clearness and soundness of his judgment on points 
respecting which it would appear that others felt embar- 
rassed, I have concluded to introduce a few of these 
cases here, — such, in fact, as by mere accident have 
happened to come into my hands. 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 69 

Quest. What is the custom or usage that ought to 
be regarded as authority by ecclesiastical bodies ? 

Arts. " Precedents in congregational bodies, I am sen- 
sible, may be found to justify any irregularities, not 
to say abuses. But these precedents, or instances, as I 
should call them, do not constitute custom or usage. 
They have no authority as expressing the general voice 
of the church. Good usage or authoritative custom 
must be from early times, continuous, and adopted gen- 
erally, and, I may add, congruous with the teachings of 
the Word." 

Quest. Ought a person to be voted under censure, 
against whom charges are pending, or to be curtailed of 
any of his religious privileges, until all the testimony, 
pro and con, be heard, and the charges are all sustained 
by vote ? 

Ans. " To vote a person under censure is to express 
the judgment of the church on the whole evidence laid 
or to be laid before them in the issues pending. To 
anticipate this judgment by a vote of censure before the 
cause is fully heard and deliberately weighed, must 
inevitably and deservedly destroy the confidence of the 
Christian community in the action of ecclesiastical 
bodies. 

" Some have been of the opinion that when charges 
are received against a church member, he ought from 
that time to be debarred, for appearance' sake, from tak- 
ing part in social religious meetings. The better opin- 
ion I think to be, that the church do not, by any action 
of theirs, disturb the accused in the enjoyment of his 
ordinary religious privileges during the pendency of the 
trial ; at the same time, it may be quite expedient for the 
accused, as a measure of Christian forbearance, and on 
the rule of giving no offence in anything, voluntarily to 
forego some of his rights." 



70 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

Ques. Can a church organization be dissolved, and if 
so, how ? 

Ans. " My own observation has convinced me that it is 
no easy matter to terminate a church corporation. How- 
ever loosely organized, and, I might almost say, however 
corrupt, it has a wonderful tenacity to life. It ought not 
to be attempted unless we are quite sure of success. 
Let the church edifice be disposed of and vacated, 
church furniture sold, and the avails given to the poor, 
and letters of recommendation voted, before the power 
shall pass out of the hands of the church. 

" I am not clear that it is proper to disband a church 
that has not forfeited its claim to visibility, except it is 
by the unanimous consent of its members. The word 
voluntary, as applied to church organization, has an 
equivocal, if not a malignant import, and should be used 
in a guarded sense, or not used at all. The church is as 
much the imperative state of a Christian people as the 
state of laws and society is the imperative state of 
rational beings. Church associations are of the nature 
of a contract, and they are understood to be permanent. 
Rights are created by these associations, or at least 
recognized by them ; and these rights are to be respected, 
until at least they are voluntarily surrendered. If, with- 
out common consent, a church is disbanded, some are 
forced into other churches against their will, or they are 
left by the wayside, deserted of those who engaged to 
watch over them, and to walk with them in all the com- 
mandments and ordinances of the Lord. I have no 
difficulty in regard to the union of the churches, or the 
distribution of the members of one church among many, 
provided it be done with the concurrence of those inter- 
ested. I do not say that one is obliged to remain in a 
church because it is reduced in numbers ; for the liberty 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 71 

of transferring one's relation to another church is under- 
stood when he joins a church ; but I know of no liberty- 
he has, on leaving a church, to pull down the house 
where others have found a refuge, and would still seek 
one." 

Quest. 1. Has a church the right, by a vote of the 
majority, to compel its members to pay any particular 
sum, or to adopt any particular mode for the support of 
the ministry, under the pains of censure or excommuni- 
cation ? 2. Has not each member of a church a perfect 
right to judge of his own means and ability to support 
the ministry, without any supervision of the church, 
unless the small sum given amounts to covetousness ? 

Arts. " It is altogether desirable, no doubt, that indi- 
viduals should concur in such plans of support as are 
recommended by a large majority of the church ; and 
opposition to such plans that is manifestly unreasonable 
and wanton — as it is evidence of covetousness or of 
contempt of the church and the ministry— is deserving 
of all condemnation. But — within the limits stated in 
the question — shall the individual, under the moral in- 
fluences which the gospel and the church bring to bear 
upon him, be judge of the propriety of his own concur- 
rence; or shall his right of judgment be superseded, and 
his personal responsibility absorbed by the all-pervading, 
all-controlling authority of the church ? This last sup- 
position, I must think, savors too strongly of Romanism. 
It belongs rather to the theory of a state establishment, 
of a government founded in force, than to the true idea 
of a Christian church, an essential feature of which is, 
the largest liberty without license or disorder. 

" The duty of church members to a minister involves, 
no doubt, this peculiarity, that it contemplates a reci- 
procity of benefits. The ministry is a service rendered 



72 MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 

to the church, and, like any other service, is entitled to 
recompense. The laborer is worthy of his hire. And 
a majority of the church is doubtless competent to enter 
into contract with a man to serve the church in the min- 
intry ; and the church is conscientiously bound to fulfil the 
stipulation on their part ; but if they are wise, they will 
provide beforehand for the discharge of their engage- 
ments ; and if they would not trench on the liberties se- 
cured in the gospel to church members, they will respect 
their right to judge of their own ability, and to deter- 
mine in their own conscience what proportion of the 
burden rests upon them. 

" With regard to this point, however it is to be further 
considered, that no enlightened, conscientious man feels 
bound to the support of the ministry merely from its 
benefit to himself, or by the obligation to pay a debt. 
He is to be more properly urged by the sense of the duty 
to his fellow-men. The benefit to be derived to others 
from the ministry of the word is a stronger motive to 
him to aid in its support than the benefit to be derived 
to himself personally. For this reason, I conceive, the 
Apostles place the support of the ministry in the same 
class with the duty to relieve the necessities of the poor 
of the church, to send the gospel to the destitute, and to 
engage in various works of charity and mercy. The 
duty is all the same in kind and in its nature, and grows 
out of one common principle ; and the rule laid down in 
regard toit, in each and every case, is, that it be per- 
formed with a ready mind, and in measure according as 
God hath prospered us. But can the church, in either of 
the cases above alluded to, introduce coercive measures, 
except as a restraint to covetousness ? Is my duty to a 
poor suffering member in the household of faith less 
imperative than my duty to support the ministry ? If 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 73 

ths church may determine what sum a man shall pay 
a minister, irrespective of his consent, why not determine 
also his proportion for the support of the poor of the 
church, and the precise sum he shall pay to the various 
objects of Christian benevolence ? Moreover, if taxation, 
without the individual's assent, is proper in one of the 
cases above adverted to, why not in all ? And again, if 
coercive measures in raising money is the law of Chris- 
tian love, then why not adopt the broad principle so 
universally conceded in secular society, to impose a tax 
on the poll, and even on a man's faculty, as well as on 
the general list ? 

" The policy of the gospel in this and in all matters, as 
I understand it, is to make the performance of duties 
the means of personal culture, at the same time that it 
subserves the interests of the church and of the world. 
The constant aim is to impress the Christian mind with 
a sense of its individual responsibility, and to induce 
the conviction that the Christian is a steward directly 
amenable to God, and not a mere automaton in the hands 
of the church. I know not why a man should be ac- 
counted less free, less responsible, in the church than out 
of it. In either case, his duties spring from a deeper 
source than the authority of the church ; and the obliga- 
tions that bind him are those which commend them- 
selves to his conscience in the sight of God. 

" To conclude : if a man gives conscientiously to the 
support of the gospel, with a cheerful and a ready mind, 
and in proportion to his means, himself being judge, he 
furnishes in this matter no just occasion for offence to 
the church, even though he find reason for not submit- 
ting to the particular measures which the majority would 
impose on the church." 

1 A case brought before the civil courts some years ago, involving a ques- 

7 



74 MEMOIR OF WORTRTNGTON SMITH. 

It could not be said that the new kind of life upon 
which Dr. Smith was now about to enter was one for 
which he felt himself to be wholly unprepared. It was 
not so altogether new as it might well have been had 
his twenty-seven years in the ministry been spent under 

tion of the relation of the Rev. Mr. Lyon, of South Hero, to the church 
over which he officiated as pastor, on which question Dr. Smith was called 
upon to give his opinion as a deponent, possesses something more than a 
local interest, on account of the peculiarity of the facts, and I have therefore 
concluded to introduce it, together with Dr. Smith's depositions, in a note. 
The question raised was whether the Rev. Mr. Lyon was the first settled 
minister in the town of South Hero. Now Mr. Lyon, a worthy and highly 
respected minister in the estimation of all the churches around here, had 
many years ago left a church over which he was pastor, in Sunderland, 
Mass., Avithout being regularly dismissed from it, and coming to South 
Hero, in this state, had gathered a church there, and in due time, at the 
request of this church, applied to the neighboring churches for regular 
installation. For some reason this was put off. He still continued, how- 
ever, to preach and to discharge all the functions of a regular pastor to the 
church under his care. Finally he was tacitly recognized and acknowledged 
by the churches and ministers in all this part of the country as pastor of the 
church at South Hero. In 1840, the present incumbent, the Rev. Mr. 
Wheeler, was ordained as pastor over the same church, and after Mr. 
Lyon's death, put in his legal claim, as the first regularly settled minister, 
to the section of land to which, by the laws of the state, the first minister in 
that town was entitled. The claim was contested by the town, on the 
ground that Mr. -Lyon was really the first minister. When the case came 
on for trial, the following questions were proposed to Dr. Smith : the first 
by the counsel for the town, and the second by the counsel for Mr. Wheeler, 
which I give, with the answers appended. 

Interrogatories by A. G. Whittemore, Esq. 

1. "Did Mr. Lyon, by the proceedings recited in the records of January 
12, 1795, become the pastor of that church ? " Ans. " Your deponent is of 
opinion that Mr. Lyon did not become pastor of the church by the vote of 
January 12, 1795. This was evidently the understanding of the church, as 
appears from their action on the twelfth of February, 1795, in which they 
provide for the assembling of a council, and propose to submit the question 
of Mr. Lyon's installation to their discretion. The conditional character of 
this action at this time implies that their proceedings hitherto, and even at 
this last date, were only preliminary." 



Memoir of worthington smith. 75 

different circumstances; had he not during nearly 
the whole of that time been officially connected with 
the college over which he was now to be placed as 
head ; had he not lived on such terms of intimacy with 
Drs. Marsh and "Wheeler (successively his predecessors 

2. "If he did not, what effect had the proceedings of the twenty-first 
December, 1802, taken in connection with the former record, and upon the 
assumption that he acted as their pastor during the interim between the two 
votes 1 " Arts. " Your deponent does not find from the records that Mr. 
Lyon acted as pastor of the church in the interim between January, 1795, 
and December, 1802 ; but the contrary is indicated by the fact that a desire 
to enjoy the regular and stated administration of the ordinances of the gos- 
pel, was a motive assigned for their action at the last- mentioned date. The 
effect of the vote passed December 21, 1802, in the judgment of your 
deponent, was to invest Mr. Lyon — he assenting thereunto — with the pas- 
toral authority and duties of the said church. The absence of a council to 
advise and assist in the installation was owing, as the records show, to no 
fault or negligence in the parties. Your deponent is of the opinion that, 
when a council cannot be convened by reasonable endeavor, it is competent 
for the church, with the concurrence of the candidate, on the principles and 
early practice of^the Congregational order, to fill the pastoral office. 

" The foregoing opinion, however, is grounded on the assumption that the 
church in South Hero was entitled to an ecclesiastical standing in the churches, 
and that Mr. Lyon was a regular and acknowledged minister. The church in 
South Hero, as the records show, was constituted by Mr. Lyon ; and if he 
at the same time was deposed, or under censure, he clearly had no authority to 
act in such a matter ; and the church formed by him cpuld claim no place 
in the fellowship of the churches by whose authority Mr. Lyon had been 
laid under censure. If Mr. Lyon did not enjoy the fellowship of the 
churches, he could not extend the same to the church which he might gather. 
Such a church would have no claim to acknowledgment, nor their letters for 
a council be entitled to respect." 

3. " Whether the services of Mr. Lyon, from 1795 to 1840, as pastor of the 
church, with temporary interruptions from secular callings and illness, and 
his recognition as such pastor from the year 1810 or 1811, by the clergy and 
churches of Vermont, are, or are not, sufficient to constitute him the pastor 
of that church to all intents and purposes 1 " Ans. " These circumstances, 
your deponent thinks, would constitute strong presumption that Mr. Lyon 
was in fact pastor of the church, and especially if he at the same time 
claimed to be the pastor. A claim which generally, and for along period of 
time, has been concurred in by those who are interested to contest it, may 



76 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

in the same office, and both old friends) as to be well 
acquainted with their views of the duties required and of 
the object to be aimed at. Nor could it be said that the 
station was one he had never before been led to think of, 
— that he had never before had occasion seriously to con- 
reasonably be supposed to be substantially founded. And here your 
deponent would further state, as a maxim of no small weight in ecclesias- 
tical as well as in civil matters, that tbings which have an irregular and even 
a wrong beginning, may in time secure public acknowledgment and confi- 
dence. The church in South Hero might have been organized by a deposed 
minister, and of course in circumstances that excluded it, for the time, from 
the fellowship of the churches and the aid of councils. But experience, and 
its own discreet and Christian walk, brought it ultimately, and without a 
reorganization, within the fellowship of the churches. And the same, your 
deponent thinks, was effected in regard to its minister. Both originally 
stood on the same basis, and they rose or fell together. The same act of 
the Northwestern Association which recognized the church of South Hero, 
recognized also Asa Lyon as its pastor." 

Interrogatories of H. Adams, Esq., of ichich the first three are omitted, as 
relating to points less essential. 

4. "When a Congregational minister has been deposed, by the action 
of an ecclesiastical council, from a pastoral office, can he become the pastor 
of another church before he is restored ; and what action is necessary to 
restore him, according to the usage of the Congregational order 1 " Ans. 
" Your deponent conceives that the body which restores a minister lying 
under censure cannot ordinarily be the identical body which imposed the 
censure. If the same churches are represented in it, the delegates who heard 
the evidence and administered the censure cannot be expected to be the 
same. Nor is it made necessary, by common usage, that the delegates or 
the churches who deposed should be the same to restore. A deposed min- 
ister is restored by becoming a pastor of a church ; and whoever is compe- 
tent to install is also competent to remove a censure, at least to the extent 
in which its authority is recognized ; and the authority of no ecclesiastical 
body can extend beyond their limits. The Rev. Mr. Fairchild was deposed 
by a council in Exeter, N. H., and afterwards restored by another council in 
the act of installing him over a church in East Boston. An installing body 
ought to be satisfied with the qualifications and fitness of the candidate ; and 
if they restore to office one who has been deposed, it must be on their own 
responsibility, and for reasons that will commend themselves, first or last, 
to the religious public, or they become liable to reproach themselves. 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 77 

sider how far he might be qualified for such a trust ; 
so that the work before him, although new to his expe- 
rience, was already, in a degree, familiar to his thoughts. 
Dismissed from his people, he came to Burlington, for 
the purpose of being inducted into office, about the be- 

" The action necessary in restoring a man, your deponent conceives, must 
depend on the form in which the case is presented. If the person censured 
plead his innocence, they may inquire anew into the facts . if he confesses 
his guilt, they may act on the evidence of the sincerity of his penitence. 

"Moreover, your deponent thinks that individuals and bodies of men, in 
the course of time and by their own good conduct, may come to enjoy a 
fellowship which they had once forfeited, or, at least, lost ; and this, too, 
without the aid of any formal action. The church in South Hero, if formed 
by a deposed minister, could not, at the first, have been recognized by those 
who respected the authority of the deposing council; but time and their 
own prudence have at length secured them a standing among the churches, 
and this without disturbing their original organization, or even making it a 
matter of public censure and inquiry. 

"And what was granted to the church was not withheld from its pastor. 
After fifteen years of laborious toil in his profession, and of humble, pious 
example, he issued from the shade together with his church, and for thirty 
years afterward enjoyed the respect of his brethren in the ministry, and the 
confidence of the churches — the acknowledged pastor of an acknowledged 
church/' 

5. " Has not Mr. Wheeler, the complainant, been recognized by the 
Congregational clergy, associations, and consociations of Vermont, as the 
regularly settled pastor over the Congregational church in South Hero, since 
he was installed as pastor over it in November 1840, so far as your knowl- 
edge extends ? " Ans. " So far as his knowledge extends, your deponent 
thinks that Mr. Wheeler is recognized by the clerical and ecclesiastical bodies 
in our connection as now the sole pastor of the church in South Hero. He 
is not clear that Mr. Wheeler's installation was generally regarded as strictly 
regular, inasmuch as it was understood to proceed on the assumption that the 
church was without an incumbent. Some., it is believed, have been inclined to 
regard it as a transaction necessarily, though not expressly, modified and 
limited by the circumstances of the case ; and that its effect went no further 
than to constitute Mr. Wheeler, for the time being, an associate or colleague 
pastor. The apparent irregularity in his ordination, your deponent thinks, 
was by no one supposed to affect its validity; so that on the decease or 
dismissal of Mr. Lyon, Mr. Wheeler would remain sole pastor of the 
church." 

7* 



78 MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 

ginning of August, 1849. He was now in his fifty-fifth 
year, but apparently none the worse for the wear of 
time. Even his voice betrayed outwardly no abatement 
of usual power. In all other points he appeared a 
strong and healthy man, giving promise of a long life of 
active service in the cause to which he had now devoted 
himself. 

The day chosen for his induction into office and the 
delivery of his inaugural discourse was, as I well remem- 
ber, an unfavorable one for the gathering of a large 
audience. Though on Commencement week, it was by 
some mischance, the same day that had been appointed 
for the holding of a political meeting in Burlington from 
the whole Congressional District ; hence few people from 
abroad found it convenient to attend. I am persuaded 
that Dr. Smith felt hurt at what naturally looked to him 
like a cold reception. But he soon had reason to know 
that this was entirely a mistake. 

The impression which this his first appearance made 
on the students — that class of his hearers who I daresay 
were the most critical, as they were most in earnest to 
know their man, and many of whom now saw him for the 
first time — was as favorable as any one could have 
wished. " There was naturally a good deal of interest 
among the students," says one of our professors, who was 
then a student, " as to who and what our new President 
would prove to be. We had all heard much of him as a 
man of influence and power; but few of us had ever seen 
him, and none knew enough of him to assure us whether 
he had those traits of character which would make him 
acceptable to us as President. His first appearance 
before us was on the Sunday previous to Commence- 
ment, when he preached the Baccalaureate discourse 
from the text, ' For David, after he had served his own 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 79 

generation by the will of God, fell asleep, and was laid 
unto his fathers, and saw corruption.' No doubt the 
weight of responsibility he was just then, after so long 
deliberation and so many misgivings, taking upon him- 
self, added something of unusual impressiveness, ap- 
proaching at times even to pathos, to his characteristic 
solemnity of manner. At any rate, the impression left 
upon us, as I very distinctly remember, was that while he 
was a man of strong and commanding mind, his views 
of life were so broad and generous, and his sense of the 
responsibilities of life so oppressive almost, to himself, 
that he would be even more of the father than the scholar. 
And when again, on Tuesday, at the close of his inau- 
gural address, he charged himself, with trembling voice, 
in the awful language of the apostle, to watch for our 
souls i as one who must give account,' there was not 
a man or a boy among us who had not settled in his 
mind that the new President was a man to be both 
revered and loved." 

It may be as well to speak here of a fact in relation to 
Dr. Smith's residence in Burlington while President of 
the University, which doubtless must have appeared 
quite singular and unaccountable to those not well ac- 
quainted with the peculiar circumstances of the case. 
His family, during the whole period of his connection 
with the college, continued to reside in St. Albans. 
There was his home ; and he was in the habit of visiting 
it weekly, and generally on Saturday, returning to Bur- 
lington early on the following Monday. Several reasons 
have induced me to take particular notice of this fact. 
It modified, to a certain extent, his whole relation to the 
college. Few men could have ventured to take the 
same course, with any hope of retaining their position. 
Great weight of character and influence could alone have 



80 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

sustained a man under such circumstances ; sincerest 
devotion to the public good would alone have induced 
one to submit to such a sacrifice. To have his family 
in one place, while his daily duties required him to live 
in another, was, to be sure, in all aspects of it, a serious 
evil. But it was an unavoidable one in his case; and 
as such, or, at least, as a very probable contingency, it 
must have been contemplated by him, when he consented 
to come to Burlington. By saying it was unavoidable, 
I mean simply this, that if he, who constantly suffered 
himself the greatest personal inconvenience from it, had 
seen any possible way to avoid it, he most certainly 
would have done so. And nothing more need be said, I 
trust, in explanation of a fact which could not be more 
fully explained without entering into details belonging 
more properly to the strictly private than to the public 
life of the subject of this memoir. 

How much personal discomfort must have been expe- 
rienced from a life of this sort by a man peculiarly alive 
to the endearments of home, may be easily conceived ; 
nor can it justly be supposed that anything short of an 
imperative sense of duty could have prevailed upon him 
to submit to it. It is plain that so wise and prudent a 
man as Dr. Smith would never have taken the step which 
he did in this case without having first counted the cost 
and maturely considered whether the object probably to 
be gained by it was of sufficient magnitude to justify 
the sacrifice it must require. The cause of education 
generally was ever dear to him. With the history of 
this University of Vermont, its early and later struggles 
for existence, its aims and prospects, he was as well ac- 
quainted as any other man living. He very well under- 
stood, also, and sympathized with the spirit and tone of 
the system of education which, from the time of the 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 81 

presidency of Dr. Marsh, this university had, according 
to its means, endeavored to establish. He had a reason- 
able hope of being able to do something towards realiz- 
ing its aims as well as of securing for the college a firmer 
hold on the confidence and affections of all well-wishers 
to good education in the state. And it may be truly 
said, that he addressed himself to the task of accomplish- 
ing these worthy objects with strong resolution, courage, 
and the most unsparing and persevering industry. 

In the early part of the time of his presidency he 
kept a journal — "a system of daily notices," as he calls it, 
" of what may occur in my connection with college, 
whether intrinsically important or unimportant." About 
three weeks after entering upon the duties of his office 
he wrote as follows : " My labors thus far, in my college 
connection, have been arduous, and my duties some- 
what perplexing. But the habits of the college thus 
far have been orderly and studious, and my intercourse 
with the Faculty agreeable, which have served greatly to 
conciliate me to a station which I accepted with many 
fears and much reluctance. With the divine blessing, 
without which I have learned to confide in nothing, I 
may hope that my endeavors for the college will result in 
some benefit to it and satisfaction to myself." 

The character which Dr. Smith brought to the univer- 
sity, as a man sound in the faith, yet catholic and 
tolerant in the best sense of the words; as one who in 
watching over the interests of learning, would never for 
a moment lose out of sight those of religion and piety, 
was in itself a great advantage. In some way, it is im- 
possible to tell how, or by what means, a suspicion had 
been pretty industriously circulated that there was some 
taint in the religious atmosphere of the place, to which 
it was hardly safe to expose the susceptible minds of 



82 MEMOIR OF WOETHINGTON SMITH. 

young men. The coming of Dr. Smith gave additional 
force to the happy influence of his predecessor, Dr. 
Wheeler, in putting a stop to these idle rumors. His 
character for soundness in the faith was above suspicion. 
Nor could there be the least doubt that he ;would take a 
hearty interest in the religious welfare of the young men 
who should be placed under his care, as their instructor 
and guardian ; for the very meaning of education, with 
him, as was well understood, necessarily involved, or 
rather presupposed, the idea of a Christian training. 
And, in fact, the subject of religious instruction in college 
was one of the first things that engaged his attention ; 
for in the beginning of his journal, he writes : " My mind 
is not a little disquieted by the imperfect system, if there 
be any system aside from public prayers, provided for 
religious instruction and influence in college. Both the 
Faculty and the students would seem to require what at 
present they have not. Any system of religious instruc- 
tion for a college must probably be unsteady and defect- 
ive, that is not based on the stated administration of 
Sabbath ordinances, arranged for the especial benefit of 
the college itself. We need preaching in the chapel on 
the Sabbath ; and even preaching must in this, and in all 
cases, be insufficient without the support of a church or- 
ganization, and the spiritual influence which can have 
an abiding seat only in the church. But to both these 
measures there are at present hinderances ; and mean- 
while we must see what can be done to make up the 
deficiency, in part, in a less formal and more private 
way. 

" I can hardly conceive of a place where a high stand- 
ard of spiritual piety, inward and outward, is more im- 
portant than in a college. The conduct of all is so 
open to observation, the intercourse so familiar, and the 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 83 

provocations to impatience and petulance so frequent, 
that unless the spirit of a man be strongly fortified by- 
grace, his example may be perfectly pernicious on the 
susceptible minds about him." 

Many things about a college that seem in the highest 
degree desirable, cannot be brought about at once, how- 
ever earnestly they may be wished. The same deficiency 
here spoken of had long before been felt by the Faculty, 
and every effort made on their part to supply it. Public 
preaching had, from time to time, been maintained in 
the chapel, and other modes of religious instruction 
adopted, and carried into more or less successful opera- 
tion. But experience shows that, in a college, religious 
instruction, to be carried on after a regular and syste- 
matic plan, must be made a special department, under 
the charge of some one individual, like any other depart- 
ment. Until this be done, the organization of a church 
among the students and Faculty, as it must be without 
a stated pastor, would prove to be of little use. Such a 
body could not possibly be kept together for any great 
length of time. There should either be such a depart- 
ment provided for by the Corporation of the college, 
with a salary to support it, or there should be a church 
in the immediate vicinity of the college, in the choice 
of whose pastor the college might have a voice ; or the 
whole matter must be left to depend upon the particular 
feeling and interest of individual members of the Fac- 
ulty, or upon the particular desire which may happen to 
exist or to be expressed among the students, at certain 
times, for more direct religious teaching. Yet it may 
be said, that although no church has been organized, nor 
systematic plan of religious instruction established in 
this college, the duty of giving religious instruction is a 
thing which has never been wholly neglected. 



84 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

I am sorry to be obliged to say that the funds of the 
institution were never in such a condition, during Dr. 
Smith's administration, as to enable him to bring about 
the object he had so near at heart, that of securing to 
the college a permanent and well-ordered system of 
religious instruction. 

These funds were another source of endless anxiety to 
him, and called for a species of effort from which he 
would have been very glad to be excused. Among the 
first things which required his attention, as a matter of 
business to be managed as it best might be, was a 
demand from the state for the payment of an old debt, 
for money borrowed by the Corporation from what was 
then called the school fund. Dr. Smith appeared before 
the legislature to ask a release from this debt. As it was 
the only part of this fund which had ever been actually 
appropriated to educational purposes, and the interest on 
it was regularly paid, it was supposed that the legislature 
would not wish to disturb the university by disposing in 
some other way of so small a part of the school fund. 
The debt now amounted to somewhat more than three 
thousand dollars — a heavy sum to be demanded by the 
state from a college founded by itself, and whose entire 
income was barely sufficient to defray its annual ex- 
penses. When the question came up for debate whether 
this debt should be remitted, a beautiful scene ensued. 
The bill for the relief of the university was immediately 
saddled with amendments. It was amended by the 
friends of Middlebury College, so as to give them an 
equal sum to the whole amount of the debt which should 
be remitted to the university ; and it was amended 
again by the friends of Norwich University, to the effect 
that the school fund should be equally divided between 
the three. The object- of Dr. Smith and his friends was 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 85 

to urge the passage of the bill as it stood originally, and 
on its peculiar merits. This course was strongly advo- 
cated by several members of the legislature ; but finally, 
the motion passed to dismiss by a large majority. Dr. 
Smith thus describes the state of parties brought out on 
this occasion. " The friends of Middlebury voted to 
dismiss, after having insisted on being connected with 
us by an amendment of the bill, for the purpose of 
uniting their strength with ours. A portion of the house 
wished to have the fund divided among the three. 
Another portion affected disgust because of the scramble 
of the colleges. Others, again, wished to retain the note 
as a check on the University, and to discourage similar 
applications from the colleges ; and another and larger 
number, from a sordid and mean policy towards similar 
institutions." 

On the whole, he thought that the institution, so far 
from losing any ground by what had been attempted, 
had manifestly made progress, and that its friends had no 
occasion to feel dissatisfied. The note had yet three 
years to run ; and before the expiration of that time, the 
legislature might possibly be prepared to remit the debt. 
How far this hope was realized will be seen hereafter. 

If the noble plan projected by the Founders of this 
republic in 1777, which contemplated the formation of 
Common Schools in each township, one Grammar 
School in each county, and one University, as the educa- 
tional system of the state, had been strictly adhered to, 
and faithfully carried out by succeeding legislatures, 
there would have been no " scrambling of colleges," and 
very little occasion for the begging of money, whether 
from the legislature, or from any other quarter. A judi- 
cious course of legislative action, on the basis originally 
proposed, would have placed our state system of educa- 



86 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

tion, from the Common School upwards, on as good a 
footing, to say the least, as that of any system existing 
in other states. The provision for the support of one 
University, which certainly is all we need in a state of 
the size of Vermont, might easily have been secured, and 
the public good, which I suppose is the only thing a 
legislature ought to be looking after, truly promoted. 
Instead of this, we now have three eleemosynary institu- 
tions, and a rivalship among them of begging for the 
means of existence. For if one college begs, so must 
the others, and there is no end to it. 

This is an evil entailed upon us by the false policy of 
granting charters for colleges and academies to every 
applicant, with little or no reference to a common plan. 
An irremediable evil : for what college is going to give 
up its chartered rights to another ? There were long 
negotiations to bring about some such union or amalga- 
mation of the University of Vermont with Middlebury 
College. One was quite willing and ready to absorb the 
other ; but unfortunately neither could be persuaded to 
be the one to be absorbed. Dr. Smith, during the first 
year of his presidency, tried his hand once, and as I 
believe but once, in experimenting as to the practicability 
of bringing about this desirable union. The views which 
he expressed on this subject to a warm friend of the 
other college will show pretty nearly the aspect of the 
question,, as it presented itself to his mind. 

" Whether the colleges," he said, "can be brought to- 
gether in the only way in which the thing can be desired, 
depends obviously on the amount of concessions which 
the friends of each are willing to make to the other. I 
have an opinion in regard to them who act and feel for the 
University, and you have one in regard to them who do 
the same in regard to the College. Our opinions may 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 87 

in both cases, prove erroneous ; at the same time, it may- 
be of importance to be apprized of each other's views, 
whether they be right or wrong. The question, then, is : 
what, in our opinion, would reconcile our friends to a 
union of the colleges ? What are they willing respec- 
tively to yield, and what would they insist upon ? 

" As the subject offers itself to my mind, at this time, 
there are two preliminaries to be settled ; after which, the 
whole matter resolves itself into an arrangement of details, 
which candid and sagacious men will most likely find a 
way to dispose of. What then, let me inquire, will the 
friends of Middlebury, in your opinion, say to the plan 
of assuming the University as the basis of the union, 
and leaving the question of its removal undisturbed? 
Can they be induced to make the concession ? Will 
they take the University as it is and where it is, if they 
may have the power to mould it so as to suit themselves ? 
The point of submitting- the question of location may be 
to us a very serious one ; and if it could be yielded on 
your part without a reference, certainly a very great 
obstacle would be overcome, and the way opened for very 
liberal concessions on the part of the University. Con- 
cede the two points above named, and I apprehend you 
might make pour own terms as to the rest, since your 
terms would of course be such as were calculated to 
secure, in the best way, the proper ends of such an 
institution." 

He then goes on to say : " If a reference be resorted to, 
the chance, it will be conceded, would be in favor of its 
(the University's) present location : why then make a 
question of it, and not rather yield it for the sake of 
securing a better advantage in other quarters, and points 
vastly more essential to the welfare of our churches, and 
to the success of the cause of general education in the 
state ? " 



88 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

Whether this letter was ever answered, or even sent 
to the individual it was addressed to, is to me unknown ; 
but as it invites discussion on a subject that would nat- 
urally have led to a long correspondence, of which no 
evidence appears, I conclude that the subject was drop- 
ped in limine. The letter, however, none the less shows 
how desirable that object seemed to him, how ready he 
was to lend his whole influence towards the accomplish- 
ment of an object which promised to secure at once a 
more perfect unity of plan, greater economy and greater 
efficiency in the management of so important a concern 
as the system of collegiate instruction in the state. The 
subject, as I have said, was one that had often been 
agitated before ; and on the abstract question respecting 
the expediency of concentrating in one institution all 
the means which the state possessed for bestowing on 
her young men the advantages of a liberal education at 
home, there has never, perhaps, been any real difference 
of opinion among judicious men. But the practical dif- 
ficulty in bringing about such an arrangement has, as yet, 
proved to be insurmountable. Too many local interests 
and associations which would have to be sacrificed on 
one side or the other ; too much uncertainty with regard 
to the tenure of the property ; too many questions res- 
pecting the terms of union ; too much hazard in leaving 
the whole matter to be settled arbitrarily by reference ; 
too many difficulties of this sort, which first present 
themselves in their full force when the experiment is 
seriously taken in hand, have ever stood in the way of 
actually effecting an object which in theory seems so 
desirable. The first wrong step led to all the difficulty. 
A downright act of absolutism, were there any quarter 
from which it could lawfully issue, might correct the 
original mistake, and set everything again in the right 



MEMOIR OF WORTIIINGTON SMITH. 89 

train. This doubtless could be a short and sure way of 
accomplishing what many still consider the most impor- 
tant thing that could be done for the interest of educa- 
tion in the state, and what has hitherto proved so imprac- 
ticable by negotiation. But I fear that the very proposal 
of such a step, so contrary to all usage in similar cases, 
would be generally regarded as little short of infatuation. 

Dr. Smith, during his administration of the affairs of 
the University, took occasion to visit many parts of the 
state, partly for the purpose of soliciting subscriptions 
to relieve its pecuniary wants, and partly to consult lead- 
ing friends to the cause of education throughout the 
state, with regard to the best means of upholding and 
advancing this cause, and of placing it on a level with 
the wants of the time. He generally came back from 
such excursions greatly encouraged. He was not only 
gratified by many personal assurances of interest in the 
institution which he had in charge, and by the spirit 
and generosity manifested in several instances of individ- 
ual benefactions ; but he saw enough to satisfy him that 
the people of Vermont generally were quite as capable 
of appreciating the value and importance of these higher 
schools of education as any other community, and that 
they needed only to have the subject fairly brought 
before them to act upon it as a state interest of the 
highest magnitude. 

This whole matter of education, as a high interest of 
the state, was one upon which, there can be no doubt, 
President Smith had bestowed a great deal of careful 
thought, and to the purpose. But while his views on 
the general subject were, as might be expected from a 
man of his stamp, broad and comprehensive, they never 
ran into the vague and extravagant. He was no schemer, 
but a broadly practical man ; his thoughts dwelt, by 

8* 



90 MEMOIR OF WORTHING TON SMITH. 

preference, upon the question how those methods which 
have already stood the test of experience could be made 
the most available in promoting those ends, private and 
public, which a Christian education — his idea of a true 
education — contemplates. That he saw very clearly 
what the best interests of the state of his adoption 
required, what hinderances still remained in the way of 
furthering them, and what were the most likely means 
for removing or overcoming those hinderances, and of 
preparing the way for making the state what it ought to 
be, and might be, with the fine material it has to work 
upon, is plain from what he has written and said on 
many public occasions. In an address delivered before 
an educational state convention, or on some similar 
occasion, he took for his subject : " The Educational 
Economy of the State, in its historical and prospective 
aspects." The historical part of this discourse bears 
witness of the pains he had taken to trace from the be- 
ginning, by the aid of documentary evidence not gene- 
rally accessible, the action of the state on the matter of 
education, and to make himself perfectly at home on the 
views entertained upon the subject by the fathers of the 
commonwealth. He found them to correspond remark- 
ably with his own views of the best policy of this state. 
His fundamental position with regard to the common 
aim of all education was, " that true culture is essen- 
tially self-culture. Whatever the destination of the 
future man, the whole mind must be cared for, its mani- 
fold powers developed in their due order, and all taught 
to act in their appropriate spheres with energy and pre- 
cision, and in obedience to the will and the guidance of 
right reason." Every man had a right to be put in this 
direction from the first, and to be advanced far enough 
in it to carry on the work for himself. This kind of 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTOX SMITH. 91 

education was as good and as suitable for one class as 
for another, and as conducive to the profitable pursuit 
of one kind of business as another ; while it placed 
business, from the start, infinitely below personal worth 
and the sense of the manly in character. The education 
of the child should be to bring out the man in him, not 
prematurely, of course, but surely, and in the order of 
nature. He thought every other scheme, but especially 
such schemes as would train a rational being from the 
first to some particular earthly vocation, must necessarily 
have a warping influence, and tend to convert the man 
into a mere tool, leaving scarcely a chance of his ever 
getting really to feel himself to be anything better or 
higrier ; a tendency quite at variance with the general 
spirit of the people of the state and of its institutions. 

But the moral element in education was the one upon 
which he was ever disposed to lay the greatest stress. 
The first lecture he gave to the collective body of stu- 
dents was on the subject of discipline. After defining 
this as a power that is never partial, never in any sense 
antagonistic to nature, its office being to preserve, not to 
impair the symmetry of her works, he observes that dis- 
cipline might be regarded as reformative and as progres- 
sive ; reformative, so far as it seeks to correct false 
impressions, to soften prejudices, to subdue vicious or 
ungainly habits, to eradicate unworthy sentiments, and 
subject to a humanizing influence whatever is vulgar or 
unsocial or unmanly in the feelings of the heart, and 
whatever is untoward in a will unaccustomed to obedi- 
ence. It is progressive in its aims when it seeks to 
evoke the powers of reason and of the understanding, 
to inform the conscience, to inspire the imagination, to 
refine the taste, to adorn the heart with pure and honora- 
ble sentiments and form the exterior life to that style of 



92 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

manners and personal address, which no educated man 
is at liberty to neglect. 

He then goes on to remark, that with regard to the 
true office and scope of collegiate culture an important 
error had doubtless prevailed and still continued to pre- 
vail, in a greater or less degree, even in theory. The 
value of a collegiate course was too often estimated by 
its influence on mere intellect. Mind was regarded as 
simply an engine of power, and the only important ques- 
tion concerned the process of accumulating this power 
and making it most available. 

Of the value of power as belonging to mind, too high 
an estimate could hardly be formed. But it was to be 
considered that this power is liable to be misappre- 
hended, and hence it became important to inquire into 
its nature and search out the secret place of its abode. 

" Knowledge alone does not constitute it, any more 
than superabundance of food in the stomach constitutes 
physical strength. Even knowledge duly arranged, 
methodized, and subjected to the logical processes of the 
understanding, may still need an energizing principle, 
without which it remains an inert mass, or exerts but a 
feeble efficacy. The mere scholar or the mere logician 
is not the man to push his way through the world and 
draw the multitude into his wake. Finally, impulses, 
animal or moral, do not form the energizing principle 
we seek ; for these, like vernal gales, are unsteady and 
capricious, and may lull themselves into a calm when 
their influence is most needed, or even set in a hostile 
direction. The power that vitalizes all knowledge, as 
life does the organic mass, that energizes the understand- 
ing, that controls impulses, presides over the processes 
of the inner life, and subjects all minor powers to its own 
purposes and ends, is the will. Discipline, if it reaches 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 93 

• 
not to this faculty, not only fails, but does not even 

begin. The mariner may be skilful to spread his can- 
vas at the signal given, and so to adjust his yards as 
seemingly to allure the unwilling breeze ; but he alone 
is master of the ship, who, having traced the coast by his 
chart and explored its soundings, presses the helm with 
a firm and confiding grasp, and guides her pathless course, 
as by magic, to her distant moorings. A being of reason 
can be cultivated only through the agency of will. A 
compliance of the will is a condition to the first step 
that is taken ; and at the point where the will ceases to 
concur, there the disciplinary process terminates. 

" But the will is to be considered as an object, as well 
as an agent ; not only the means of discipline to other 
and subordinate powers, but at the same time also itself 
the highest subject of discipline. However free in its 
essence, however imperative in its mandates, its freedom 
is nevertheless compatible with strict conformity to an 
inflexible law, and its despotism with a most servile 
submission to influences from without. Firm as it may 
seem in a state of momentary resolve, yet, like the needle 
reposing on its centre, it betrays a disturbance oftentimes 
from the slightest changes. 

u Whether the distinction noticeable in different minds 
may or may not have its ground in original structure, in 
that law of variety which inheres in the same specific 
type, it is undoubtedly true, that by far the most impor- 
tant of all such distinctions arise from that early disci- 
pline which accident or design has imparted to the will 
Were it possible that rational beings could be divested 
of will, we see not why all development and growth, 
save what depends alone on animal organization, should 
not be instantly arrested ; and, on the other hand, expe- 
rience strongly favors the idea that these processes are 



94 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

quickened in those particular parts on which the will 
spends its greatest force. Do we not thus discover in 
the will the true source and secret place of that disci- 
plinary power which is capable of pervading our whole 
being, and the application and fruits of which are 
human culture in its highest form of excellence and 
beauty ? 

" The conclusion is, that all true personal discipline is 
essentially se/f-discipline. It consists not in a lesson to 
be read to us, but in a problem to be wrought out in us, 
a work to be done by us. There may be aids and incen- 
tives to guide and quicken us, but there are no hands to 
do the work for us. We may receive influences from 
without, manifold and salutary, but we cannot put off 
our personality, and become mere clay in the hand of the 
potter. The will, its high prerogative, and its essential 
law, are the great topics for thought and inquiry to him 
who would exalt this faculty to its proper preeminence 
in his own being, on the only condition on which this is 
possible, by accustoming it to a free but habitual subjec- 
tion to its own true law, — the law of the spirit of life 
which is in Christ Jesus." 

This view of the nature and source of true disci- 
pline — the whole conception of which is strongly char- 
acteristic of the man, as it was not with him a mere 
theory, but the central principle of all the influence he 
exerted as a teacher — will serve as well as anything 
that could be said to indicate the general tone and spirit 
which, by his example as the presiding officer, he infused 
through all the departments of college instruction. 

But, to speak more in detail, which I am fortunately 
enabled to do by the aid of one who sat under his 
instructions during a whole senior year : " These instruc- 
tions," says Professor Buckham, which were in the 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 95 

departments of Political Economy, Government, Moral 
Science, and Evidences of Religion, " were regarded as 
among the most valuable of the rich opportunities 
afforded us by the college course during that year. His 
method of instruction was first to satisfy himself by a 
few exhaustive questions on each topic as it came up, 
that we had mastered the position of the text-book, and 
then, somewhat in the form of a lecture, and evidently 
as the result of much preparation, to set forth his own 
views of the subject, — sometimes modifying the too 
narrow or too sweeping deductions of an a priori logic 
unschooled in experience, as he regarded some of the 
positions in Wayland's Moral Science ; sometimes cor- 
recting views which more recent facts and investiga- 
tions have shown to be erroneous, as with some of the 
doctrines of Say's Political Economy ; sometimes, as 
in Butler's Analogy, building up an independent argu- 
ment, which, while it left the original one unassailed, and 
availed itself of its best parts, was presented as more 
satisfactory to his own mind. And what most surprised 
and charmed us in all this, was the wealth of practical 
knowledge of history, of men, of facts, by which all his 
positions were fortified, so that, however much he might 
dissent from the text-book, we never had a doubt that 
he was in the right. Nor was it without its influence 
upon young men, too familiar with the loose and slov- 
enly language in which educated men of the present day 
often allow themselves to speak, that his instructions 
were always conveyed in that stately, periodic, some- 
what formal but not pedantic style, which every one 
remembers who ever heard him speak for five minutes, 
and which so well became the dignity of his character, 
and the solidity of his attainments." 

I now pass to another point, — his administration of 



98 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

the internal government of the college. From Dr. 
Smith's notion of discipline, as set forth by himself on 
a former page, we might form some judgment of the 
course which he would choose to take as a disciplina- 
rian ; that he would be averse to coercive measures, 
that he would prefer rather to try to reclaim those who 
might need it and be capable of it, by teaching them to 
respect and to control themselves. And such in fact 
was the course he pursued. But there was something 
in the manner in which this was done that was alto- 
gether peculiar to himself, and that seldom failed of pro- 
ducing a subduing effect, even upon the most refractory. 
I may here let Prof. Buckham speak again, who had two 
years experience of college life under President Smith's 
administration : " His government [during these two 
years] was, as ever, eminently kind and paternal, but it 
was also then strict and supervisory, much more so than 
during the infirmities of his later years. He was assidu- 
ous in detecting and punishing offences against college 
rule and order, but every one felt that it would grieve 
the good man to find that he to whom he had spoken so 
kindly and approvingly a day or two ago could be capa- 
ble of any meanness or outrage. Many instances could 
be related, as then current among college notabilia, of 
reckless and headstrong offenders subdued to tears and 
turned to better things by an interview with the presi- 
dent." And he remarks further, in relation to the pater- 
nal interest manifested by the president for the welfare 
of every young man who applied to him for advice, " that 
during the senior year especially, many of us had occa- 
sion to consult him with reference to our plans for life ; 
and I have often since wondered at the earnestness with 
which he entered into our schemes, and the pains he took 
to help us to wise and judicious conclusions." 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 97 

The point he aimed at, in administering reproof or 
censure, when called for, was manifestly to lead the way 
to a substantial reformation of character, rather than to 
punish incidental faults. In subjects apparently the 
most irreclaimable, he was still on the watch for some 
favorable opening by which to gain access to their better 
feelings. He cherished a hopeful spirit towards all young 
men. When the interests of order or the common good 
required that a student should be sent home to his 
parents, he never omitted, in giving the reasons for this 
to the parties concerned, to notice also such redeemable 
traits of character, or features in the case, as left room to 
hope for better things in the future. This appears from 
the letters addressed to parents which he has recorded 
in his journal. 

In the opinion of Mrs. Smith, the last six years of her 
husband's life, during which he was connected with the 
college, were more laborious than any other six years. 
I am inclined to think that this was exactly so ; notwith- 
standing the many interruptions to active labor which 
he experienced from frequent returns of ill-health. 
" Separated from his family most of the time," she ob- 
serves in a note, " and consequently from domestic cares, 
he was able to give himself wholly to his work. In one 
of his letters to me," she continues, " soon after he went 
to Burlington, he says, ' I intend to spare myself in no 
efforts to serve the college and to be useful to the young 
men ; and having done this, I wish to feel quiet as to 
the result : ' under another date, ' I intend while here to 
work unsparingly for the college,' and still later ' I have 
labored since I returned to the utmost of my strength, 
and have not had a moment to spare to say a word to 
you at home ; ' and again, ' I am now working at the 
rate of fifteen hours daily.' " 

9 



98 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

As to what he accomplished, it may be said without 
disparagement to his predecessors in the same office, 
that no six years in the history of the university wit- 
nessed greater prosperity -than the six years during his 
administration of its affairs. Among other results, may 
be noticed the following ; that he relieved the institution, 
by wise and prudent management, of a long standing 
and harassing debt to the state ; i that he added by 
subscriptions, obtained by him personally, or under his 
direction, some fifteen thousand dollars to the Treasury; 
that he increased the number of active friends to the 
Institution ; that he gained for it more secure hold in the 
confidence and good will of the churches ; that he did 
much towards exciting in the community at large a 
deeper interest in the cause of good education. I say 
nothing here of his lectures and lessons within the uni- 
versity, and of the healthy tone of feeling which his man- 
agement of its interior discipline carefully maintained. 

Sometimes, after spending a week, of which every dis- 
posable moment had been employed in hard work, he 
would, instead of going home to his family at St. Albans, 
go to preach on the Sabbath in some one of the neigh- 
boring villages. This doubtless was undertaking to do 
too much, though he thought he had an apology for it. 
Thus I find the following entry in his journal: "Oct. 
14th, Sab. eve. Preached twice at the centre church 
in Colchester; feel tired and worn at the chest by the 
labors of the day, having had a fatiguing week preced- 
ing, and an attack of asthma this morning. But it is 

1 This debt was finally settled by obtaining the consent of the legislature 
to subtract the whole interest which had been paid by the university from 
the original note, and to divide the balance then remaining between the 
colleges at Middlebury and at Norwich. Thus the whole amount went to 
the purposes of education in the state. 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTOX SMITH. 99 

better to preach when I feel able to do it, than not to 
preach. It seems more like the Sabbath, and my 
feelings are more enlivened than when I simply hear." 

The necessity of being separated so much from his 
family was another circumstance which probably wore 
upon his health, far beyond what he was conscious of, or 
was ever willing to admit. Very often he writes to 
relieve his friends from anxiety about himself, as long as 
he knew that they were doing well. Thus, in a letter to 
Mrs. Smith, dated Feb. 1850, he says : " I shall make 
myself quite content, and even enjoy myself, if I hear you 
are all well, and things go on well about me. I busy 
myself pretty closely from morning to evening ; and the 
days seem short, but I feel fresh and cheerful, and I 
know no good reason why I should not be quite happy." 
But the least solicitude about his family changes his 
tone. Thus, a few months later, he writes, " I hope to 
go home this week : I get at times very impatient with 
this manner of life. I wish to be with my family, and 
want to have all the family together. To go home once 
in a fortnight, and then to be torn away again, is a cruel 
way of living." 

In the autumn of 1853 an observable change in the 
state of his general health began to be remarked by his 
friends here in Burlington. Although he manifested no 
immediate alarm about himself, yet from intimations 
which he dropped, and from other circumstances, we 
feared that he contemplated resigning. " He was now," 
says one of our professors who was at that time a tutor 
residing in college, " less steadily at his post than 
formerly. His heart seemed to be more with his house- 
hold in St. Albans than with the university. His gov- 
ernment was less vigorous, and his presence, which had 
so salutary an influence over the wayward and thought- 



100 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

less, was sadly missed. Still, whenever he was at his 
post, if it was only for a few days now and then, as was 
the case during much of the year, there was such a 
power that came with him, such evident delight on the 
part of both officers and students, when he was seen 
coming, with his well-known gait, over the college green, 
to evening prayers ; such solemnity and impressiveness 
in his Chapel services ; such weight in the few words of 
admonition he might have occasion to address to the 
students, that there was a universal feeling that, after all, 
feeble as he was, and incapable of performing all his 
duties, we could not afford to exchange him for the most 
vigorous and efficient President that, in the event of his 
resignation, the university could secure." 

At length, in the spring of this year he expressed to 
the Faculty his intention of resigning. This commu- 
nication was received with the same feeling of regret by 
the Faculty, and by all others who heard of it. Sensi- 
ble as we were that the state of his health at this time 
required some relaxation from the severer duties of his 
position, yet, as he had often recovered from apparently 
similar attacks of the same nature, we could not but 
hope and believe that by a temporary suspension of his 
labors, his health might improve, without his taking a 
step which would deprive the university of the advan- 
tage of his influence and of his future devotion to its 
interests. In compliance with the urgent wishes of the 
Faculty, he consented to withhold his resignation for the 
present. It was about this time, 1 think, that he went 
to Boston, for the purpose of submitting his case to the 
examination of Dr. Jackson, whose opinion he had been 
advised to consult. He came back encouraged ; and, 
relieved of his worst apprehensions, went about his duties 
much as usual. The bad symptoms of his case, however, 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 101 

rather increasing than otherwise during the summer, he 
felt it to be his duty to give in his resignation to the 
corporation at their next meeting, in August 1854. As 
the corporation felt the same unwillingness to lose the 
valuable services of Dr. Smith as had already been ex- 
pressed by the Faculty, and as the President had not 
assigned any specific reason for wishing to resign, they 
appointed a committee to express their high regard for 
his personal character, their cordial appreciation of the 
ability and integrity and efficiency with which he had dis- 
charged the duties of his office, and their regret that he 
should have tendered his resignation, " with a request 
that he would make known to the Board the reasons 
which might have influenced him to this course." The 
reply being simply " ill health," the Board still earnestly 
requested that he would alter, or at least postpone, his 
decision. Out of respect to the wishes thus expressed, 
the President consented to make his decision as to the 
withdrawal of his letter of resignation to depend upon 
his restoration to health, and desired that the action of 
the Board upon his letter might be suspended for the 
present. The matter was accordingly thus left in sus- 
pense for a year, during which time President Smith 
continued to perform the functions of his office so far as 
his health and strength permitted him to do so. At the 
next commencement, in August 1855, finding that he 
had done all he could, he requested the corporation to 
accept his resignation, which they did ; and after the ap- 
pointment of his successor, in the following November, 
he returned for the last time to his family at St. Albans. 
Dr. Smith had not too soon released himself from the 
cares of the Presidency : there was but a short interval 
between the termination of his connection with the Col- 
lege and the termination of his mortal career. From the 

9* 



102 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

time when he first thought of resigning, which was two 
years before he actually resigned, his health had been 
declining, gradually but surely. On the 4th of February, 
1856, he was obliged to take his bed. His physicians, at 
first, held out the hope that he might rally from this 
attack, as he had done from many others of a similar 
kind before. But he gradually sunk under it until the 
13th of February, when he expired. 

The following account of the closing scene, which 
could be given only by one who was constantly at his 
side, but without which this narrative would be felt to 
be incomplete, exhibits in a striking manner the perfect 
consistency of character which this eminently good man 
was enabled to preserve down to the very last act of his 
life, his humility, his modest reserve in speaking of him- 
self and of his own hopes, his thoughtful regard for 
others, his sense of his own unworthiness, his deep foun- 
ded and firm trust in God through Christ, and his care 
manifested to the last moment, for the church and its 
institutions. 

" The few remarks," says Mrs. Smith, " which he made 
from time to time during these last days of his life, were 
incidental; usually in reply to some question, or to some 
remark made by others. That a confiding acquiescence 
in the divine appointments, and the peace of God thence 
resulting, were vouchsafed to him in large measure, we 
could not doubt. 

" When he found that his disorder would probably have 
a fatal termination, he said repeatedly, ' I do not wish 
my family to be alarmed.' It was said to him, that few 
fathers whose children were so numerous were so sin- 
cerely loved and respected by every one of them as he 
was. He replied, ' It is a comfort to know it, for if there 
is anything I have been ambitious for in life, it is the 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. 103 

love and esteem of my own family.' When .asked if he 
had any message for his absent children, ' I wish they 
were here, that I might say a few words to each of them ; 
but it is all right ; God is good? To one of the deacons 
of our church he remarked, ' God will never forsake his 
people ; but they must put their trust in him : give my 
reverend love to your mother, — she has been a mother 
to me ; — from her advanced age, I expect soon to meet 
her in happier scenes.' (In just a year from his own 
death, this mother in Israel followed her beloved pastor 
to participate, as we trust, in those ' happier scenes.') 

" To another of the deacons, whom he addressed as his 
Christian brother, and who had reminded him that, if he 
himself was a child of God, he owed it to his instrumen- 
tality, and that he regarded him as his spiritual father 
in Christ, Mr. Smith replied, 'there will be no distinction 

in heaven.' Deacon inquired if the great truths he 

had declared to others were his own comfort and sup- 
port : ' They are everything,' he said ; ; all else turns 
to nonsense. ' 

" To a friend who expressed pity and sympathy for him 
in his afflicted state, he remarked, ' I have no reason to 
complain. If I do not recover, unworthy as I am, I trust 
I shall find rest; and God, who has taken care of us for 
more than thirty years, will take care of us still.' To 
another, ' My times are in God's hand. He has taken 
care of me all my life long, and I have wanted no good 
thing ; I can leave the future with him.' On another 
occasion, when questioned in regard to his faith and 
hope, he said, ' I have, I trust, submitted myself to a 
better righteousness than my own, and through that I 
hope for eternal life, not for any worth or worthiness in 
me, — I like that expression : ' To a brother in the minis- 
try he expressed his regret that he had, of late, been pre- 



104 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTOK SMITH. 

vented by the feeble state of his health from attending 
public worship on the Sabbath, and feared that his ex- 
ample might lend countenance to those who desert the 
sanctuary, and make no account of the Lord's day. He 
lamented the decline of that Christian courtesy and hos- 
pitality which characterized the intercourse of the minis- 
try in days gone by. A few hours before his death, I 
said to him, 'you have got almost to the Celestial City.' 
He made no reply for a moment, and then said with 
energy ' God in Christ, God in the Christian, — how sim- 
ple and plain this will soon be ! ' Soon after, to one who 
said ' I hope the Saviour is with you now,' he replied, ' I 
think he is ; else why this peace ? ' The physician exam- 
ined his pulse, and he inquired the result. He was told 
that the pulsation in the wrist had ceased several hours 
since. He then turned on his side and said to me 'I am 
almost gone,' and a few moments afterwards gently 
breathed out his mortal life. 

" I might have mentioned his last act, so like himself; 
just before he ceased to breathe, when he could speak no 
more, he motioned to a friend who was standing by his 
bed, to be seated." 



In his person, Dr. Smith was rather above the medium 
size, inclined to be tall, but with a habit somewhat 
thinned and emaciated by the asthmatic complaint with 
which he was for many years periodically afflicted. His 
features, strongly moulded, and naturally of a grave and 
serious cast, readily lighted up into an expression of 
kindly good humor -in conversation. In manners, some 
might think him somewhat staid and formal ; but cer- 
tainly nothing of this kind was assumed by him. To 
his friends, he ever appeared simple and unaffected. 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 105 

He was manly, independent, and self-reliant ; clear in 
his convictions, frank in avowing, firm in maintaining 
them. Yet he was neither overbearing, nor impatient of 
contradiction, but uniformly gentle, modest, and courte- 
ous in his intercourse with all men. He had that com- 
bination of qualities which constitutes force of charac- 
ter, and was formed to be a leader of others, rather than 
to be led. Bat although he could not help being con- 
scious of the advantage which this gave him to push his 
way in the world, he showed no ambition to use it for 
this purpose, or for any other than to benefit his fellow- 
men. There can be no doubt that the petition which 
was so often on his lips, — " May we have grace to serve 
our generation according to the will of God," — expressed 
the ruling desire of his heart, though no man's opinion, 
perhaps, was more often consulted, both on ecclesias- 
tical and on other public matters ; yet no man was less 
inclined to set up himself as an oracle, or less desirous to 
be treated or regarded as such. He neither sought nor 
loved the upper places anywhere ; but the rule of our 
Lord — " One is your Master, even Christ; and all ye 
are brethren " — was naturally and gracefully carried out 
by him in all the relations of life. 

He carried this temper even into his family, — a little 
society within itself. In this beloved circle he chose to 
put aside his right of sovereignty, as he disclaimed all 
title to peculiar privileges, preferring rather to be regarded 
as an equal among equals. " What made his daily life 
so beautiful and impressive to us of his household," 
says Mrs. Smith, " was his remarkable freedom from 
selfishness, even in its most harmless and plausible forms, 
together with the unvarying politeness of his demeanor, 
at all times and under all circumstances. No man could 
be less exacting in his own family ; none more unmind- 



106 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

ful of his own, or thoughtful of the comforts of others. 
No peculiar privileges, no special comforts and indul- 
gences were ever claimed, or even allowed by him, on 
his own behalf. Indeed, he would never suffer another 
to do for him what he could do for himself. His power 
of self-control was so uniform, that much as we loved 
him, we could never fail to respect and even reverence 
him. In his intercourse with his family, he was patient 
and forbearing, generous and confiding, and most affec- 
tionate." 

It was more by the constancy of his example, than 
by outward acts of paternal authority, that he governed 
his numerous household. The younger members of the 
family all felt its influence before and without knowing 
why. " I can remember first " says one of them, " the 
unreasoning faith by which, as a child, I knew that all 
my father did and said was just and right. I reflect 
how, as I grew toward manhood, this faith in him never 
wavered, but grew firmer and firmer. I recall how I 
first learned to note the healthful manhood and vigor 
which characterized him in all his acts and thoughts ; 
the activity and positiveness of his life ; his endurance 
under trial and sorrow ; his gentleness and forbearance 
under injury; — how unconsciously noting all this, my 
love and reverence for him grew with my growth, and 
strengthened with my strength ; and yet when I sit down 
to explain all this to those who knew him not as we 
knew him, I feel how powerless and unsatisfactory are 
the words I use to express what I feel." 

It was always pleasant to meet the head of this fam- 
ily in his own home, and at his own fire-side ; for as he 
was a " lover of hospitality, a lover of good men," and 
any poor worthy brother would be accepted as such by 
him, you were not only sure of finding a welcome, but 



MEMOIR OF WOKTIIIXGTON SMITH. 107 

your host in a genial frame, and ready to do his best to 
entertain you. Nowhere else did his social qualities 
appear to greater advantage. His conversation, which 
under any circumstances was agreeable and improving 
to most persons, because always pertinent and flowing 
out of a full mind, here partook of a certain domestic 
warmth, familiarity, and heartiness, which called forth a 
corresponding feeling in all who took part in it. 

Though not what we call a learned man, Dr. Smith 
possessed a mind well furnished with all useful knowl- 
edge, while his information, on the subjects to which 
he had given particular attention, was ever character- 
ized by its accuracy. He could engage with interest and 
intelligence, therefore, in almost any discussion which 
kept this side the mere technicalities of science, and he 
sometimes surprised his friends by unexpectedly show- 
ing an ability to inform them where they thought of 
informing him. " In all the discussions I have witnessed 
between him and others," says one, " and all my own free 
intercourse with him, there seemed to myself to be no 
department of human knowledge, in which he was not 
at home. In history, geography, natural science, civil 
government, finance, agriculture, commerce indeed ; 
on every topic ever introduced, he seemed competent to 
give us instruction." But the subjects he had most 
thought upon and most thoroughly digested, were such as 
bore more directly upon his particular calling, — all sub- 
jects connected with intellectual and moral sciences. In 
these subjects he was not to be surpassed, as a broad, 
comprehensive thinker, and as an interested and interest- 
ing talker. To the literature, indeed, and history of 
these sciences he had paid but little attention, and his 
information on these points was scanty. But with all 
the great questions which in these sciences can be re- 



108 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

solved only by patient and earnest individual thinking, 
his mind had come into living contact. He had thought 
himself into clearer light, and more satisfactory views on 
many points connected with them, by intercourse with 
Dr. James Marsh, for whom he entertained sentiments of 
the deepest respect and veneration. He was first at- 
tracted to that good man by his moral worth, and the 
sincerity and purity of his Christian character. The cir- 
cumstances of the times, and a common sympathy of 
views on certain questions then agitated, brought them 
nearer together. Finally, they came together as think- 
ers ; at least, so far as a mind so practical in all its ten- 
dencies as Dr. Smith's, could go along with one so specu- 
lative in its prevailing bent as was that of Dr. Marsh. 
The influence of the latter upon him was great, but only 
impulsively ; and, as it put him in a train of thought 
which he carried out independently by himself, it ap- 
peared more in the general direction it gave to his habits 
of thinking, than in the adoption of a particular phra- 
seology. 

He always held substantially to the same views in 
theology. He professed, as indeed we all do, to call no 
man master but Christ. But of the different ways of 
interpreting Christ's teachings, and of bringing them into 
one self-consistent system of doctrine none appeared 
more satisfactory to him than "old fashioned Calvinism." 
His theology, however, was not a mere system of exactly 
expressed and logically coherent doctrines. Nor did his 
skill as a theologian consist in drawing nicely the lines of 
distinction running through this system, and separating 
it on all sides from error. It consisted rather in seizing 
upon the broad truths lying between the stronger lines, 
and exhibiting them as vitalized into principles of Chris- 
tian life and action. And here I cannot do better than 



MEMOIR OF WOUTHINGTON SMITH. 109 

to quote the substance of what was said on this subject 
by Dr. Wheeler, in his discourse pronounced over the re- 
mains of his departed friend and brother. The words 
have been kindly furnished to me by the author. " The 
position in which, above all others," said the preacher on 
this occasion," I have thought Dr. S. exhibited his power 
and strength, both of mind and character, was that in 
which men most often fail. It was when standing in 
the midst of his brethren in the ministry, he took part in 
their deliberations, and discussed with them either ques- 
tions in theology, or, more commonly, the influence and 
power of certain forms of exhibiting truth, or certain 
habits of religious life and action. He there stood as 
first among equals. Often have I seen his mind kind- 
ling up with a glow, a fire, and then a heat, until rising 
in eloquent feeling and expression, as his imagination 
opened the spiritual and ideal relations of the subject, 
he gave comprehensiveness to our views, direction and 
force to our thoughts, and power to our subsequent 
action. It will be long before the members of the 
Northwestern Association of ministers will forget him. 
His manner and earnestness and power will live not 
merely in their remembrance ; it will be treasured up as 
a fact in the history of the period, and go down to the 
coming years as a voice and a light to gladden coming 
generations. 

" The central point in his theology, and in his own 
religious life, was the Sovereignty of God ; not in any 
narrow and merely theoretical sense, but God as Re- 
deemer, Sanetifier, Creator, Source, Head over all and 
in all. He formed his system of religious thinking and of 
religious sentiment with that as the guiding and inter- 
penetrating light, in which and by which he sought to 
harmonize all related subjects. This had been the 
10 



110 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

method of the most logical and powerful minds, in all 
periods of the history of the Church. He was much in- 
structed in this by the elder Edwards, Bellamy, Hopkins, 
and the New England divines generally. Thence he 
passed to the great lights of the seventeenth century, 
Howe, Bates, Baxter, Chillingworth, Charnock, etc. 
With these, he mingled the reading and study of the 
early and best poets in our language, which gave, at 
times, an almost gorgeous richness to his phraseology, 
a highly imaginative and ideal character to some of his 
thoughts. In later life, he enlarged the compass of his 
thinking, and, perhaps, the depth of his religious concep- 
tions, by his acquaintance with the spiritual philosophy. 
But the strong logical character of his intellect did not, 
perhaps, admit of so perfect a realization of its peculiari- 
ties in the common instructions of the pulpit, as to make 
it the means of greatly increasing his power in the sacred 
desk. It however opened to him a wide field for intel- 
lectual culture, and gave him new and various illustra- 
tions of religious thought, that were eminently instruc- 
tive to thinking and reflective minds." 

In conclusion, I present the two following estimates 
of Dr. Smith's character as a Christian and a man; con- 
tributed, at my particular request, by persons who were 
not liable to be biased by the recollections and friendship 
of early years, but took their impressions freshly from 
the man in his full maturity, and under the most favor- 
able circumstances. The first is from Professor N. G. 
Clark. 

" It was my privilege to know President Smith during 
most of the time that he was connected with the univer- 
sity. I remember him as a man of large, generous, 
Christian sympathies. His Christian character seemed 



MEMOIR OF WORTHIXGTON SMITH. Ill 

to rest on the most comprehensive views of the divine 
plan of redemption, and with entire confidence in its 
ultimate realization. He was never discouraged by the 
untoward prospects of the church, or of the various 
schemes for the moral and religious elevation of his fel- 
low men. He could leave results to God, and wait his 
time. He could rest on the ideas of the eternal world, 
live in their light, and derive from them a lofty serenity 
of spirit. 

" He was self-sacrificing, because he lived for the future 
rather than for the present ; generous beyond his means, 
rather than to appear even in the least neglectful of the 
rites of hospitality or the duties of his position. In his 
relations to the officers of college, he never spared him- 
self to aid them or to relieve them in their duties. The 
illness of which he died was hastened by a labor of love 
in behalf of an officer whom he felt to be overburdened. 

" He was generous in his estimates of others, especially 
of his Christian brethren, because he never allowed him- 
self in partial views, nor permitted his prejudices to 
blind his judgment, and had confidence in the character 
of Christian men. It was this that caused him so often 
to be called upon in settling ecclesiastical difficulties, and 
to give counsel upon the most varied questions of practi- 
cal life, and by all classes of persons. Few men could 
enter so earnestly into the wants and peculiar circum- 
stances of others, or take so deep an interest in their 
welfare. He could overlook little foibles, and the petty 
particulars that so often blind the judgment, and take 
into account the whole character, and all the circumstan- 
ces affecting a given result. You felt this as he was 
listening to you, — his full eye, calm and kindly, yet 
somehow looking over and around you, and seeing in 
you and in your relations vastly more than was known to 



112 MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 

yourself; and then came his counsel, almost certain to 
be good, and expressed with such love that you could 
not but take it, and with such clearness that you knew 
it was right, and the best the case admitted ; and he sent 
you away, feeling that, having come for counsel, you had 
gained also a friend, and one who could feel almost a 
father's interest in your plans and success. 

" The religious welfare of the students was ever near 
his heart, and nothing kindled his eye or brought out 
such a look on his face, as the mention of some new 
case of religious interest among them ; and the impres- 
sion made on his mind and heart came out in the 
deeper earnestness and unction of his devotional exer- 
cises in the chapel for days after. Indeed one of his 
favorite plans, and to which he gave much thought at 
different times, was the establishment of a college church, 
whose pastor should have special regard to the religious 
welfare of the students. And this was but in strict 
keeping with his entire character, looking more to the 
future than the immediate present." 

The other communication is in the form of a letter 
from Rev. Dr. Pease, President of the University of Ver- 
mont, and Dr. Smith's immediate successor in that 
office. 

" University of Vermont, Septembers, 1860. 

Professor Torrey : 

"Dear Sir: — I can, without much difficulty, com- 
ply with your request, that I would give you my impres- 
sions of the 'general character' of President Smith. His 
character was marked by traits so distinct and positive 
as to make a distinct and positive impression on my 
mind. 



MEMOIR OF WOfcTHINGTON SMITH. 113* 

" The word that best expresses ray view of his char- 
acter, as' a whole, is integrity. His moral virtues were 
those which sprang out of and illustrated that quality. 
There was a proportion in his sentiments, and, therefore 
an almost instinctive justice in his moral judgments. 
His approval or condemnation of measures and opinions 
was remarkably free from any apparent self-reference, 
and seemed to be affected very little, if at all, by their 
relation to other persons. I think the impression of 
others coincides with my own, that his judgments were 
impartial. 

"His intellectual character was marked by the like 
integrity and soundness. This appears to me to be true 
in two respects. In the first place, he investigated a 
subject with calmness, patience, and comprehensiveness ; 
making himself master of it in all its details and bear- 
ings. He was, therefore, seldom mistaken in matters of 
fact. Where he professed to know at all, his knowledge 
was accurate. In the second place, he had a liberal and 
fair appreciation of all departments of human knowledge 
and labor. This saved him from any improper bias 
arising from the careful interest with which he devoted 
his thoughts to particular subjects. I think his profes- 
sional career affords a confirmation of this opinion. 
Nearly all his active life was spent in the discharge of 
the duties of a Christian pastor and preacher; and yet 
few men were better versed in all the more fundamental 
questions of law and government and public policy. 
The methods and progress of the medical profession, we 
might suppose, judging from his conversation, had been 
made by him matters of special observation and study 
He was widely conversant with general literature. He 
took a lively and intelligent interest in all the great 
questions of the day. He was acquainted not only with 
10* 



114 MEMOIR OF WORTHING TON SMITH. 

the general bearings and importance of agriculture and 
the arts, but also with their processes. He had always 
taken so practical an interest in education, that, when 
he was chosen to the presidency of the college, he 
seemed almost as familiar with its duties as if his life 
had been spent in the discharge of them. This compre- 
hensive view, which he took of all the great subjects of 
human interest, gave his mind what I cannot better ex- 
press than by calling it a judicial character. And I 
believe it is a fact, that, in the circle where he habitually 
moved, his opinions, although given with modesty and 
reserve, had the practical effect of decisions. 

" Like traits belonged to his social character. There 
was a generous frankness in his social intercourse which 
left on the mind a conviction of his sincerity and 
honesty. There was, however, at the same time, a dig- 
nity and reserve in his manner, which did not encourage 
very great familiarity. He awakened in his friends 
more the sentiment of confidence and respect than any 
of a more tender character. His bearing towards others 
was always that of a dignified kindness and courteous 
consideration. Here, also, he maintained the character 
of impartiality. 

" His religious character was in harmony with the rest ; 
giving to the rest, indeed, much of its beauty and excel- 
lence. Thorough, self-searching, and vigilant with ref- 
erence to his own personal experience, he was not dis- 
posed to make that a matter of frequent conversation. 
His confidence with reference to himself, as well as to 
others, rested more on the habitual life than on any tran- 
sient emotions. He was decided, clear, and profound in 
his theological opinions, and was able to express them 
with great power, both in conversation and in the pul- 
pit ; but was tolerant towards those who differed from 



MEMOIR OF WORTHINGTON SMITH. 115 

him, not attributing their difference to unworthy motives 
or ends. The just balance of his intellectual character 
seemed to impart its proportions to his religious life; 
and the purity of his religious character communicated 
its own sincerity and clearness to his intellectual proces- 
ses, and both together completed that combination of 
qualities which I have called integrity, 

" I might illustrate what I have said, but perhaps 
nothing further is necessary to the clear communication 
of what you desired of me, — my impression of President 
Smith's ' general character.' 

" Yours truly, 

< u Calvin Pease." 



' 



SERMONS. 



SERMON I. 

THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 1 



" FOR DAVID, AFTER HE HAD SERVED HIS OWN GENERATION BY THE WILL 
OF GOD, FELL ON SLEEP, AND WAS LAID UNTO HIS FATHERS, AND SAW 
CORRUPTION." — Acts xiii. So. 

In this connection the apostle introduces a comparison 
between Jesus, the Saviour, and all other distinguished 
benefactors of men. The eminent and peculiar service 
rendered by the former is contrasted, in its ever-abiding, 
operative nature, with the brief and transitory services 
of the latter. Like his great human progenitor, Jesus 
was made subject to death, as the sole condition of his 
giving life to the world ; but this event, while it termi- 
nated the active, and in a great measure the actual, ser- 
vice of the one, became to the other the birth and mani- 
festation of a power, by which, through all time, he 
was to minister personally and effectively to the heirs of 
salvation. It was appointed unto him to die, but not to 
see corruption. Death was the shadow that lay for a 
moment upon his path, the temporary eclipse which 
passed over the face of the " Sun of Righteousness," and 
held the world of nature in portentous darkness. But 
the Son of God could not be holden by the bands of 
death. A speedy resurrection restored his presence to 

1 Baccalaureate, Burlington, 1849. 



120 THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 

the world, endued with a priesthood which abideth con- 
tinually," — a priest " after the power of an endless 
life," — seeing that he ever liveth to make intercession 
for us. But not so was it with David, and other great and 
holy men whose lives and deeds have blessed the world. 
They were called to a temporary service, and when this 
was finished, " they fell on sleep, and were laid to their 
fathers, and saw corruption." 

The text, then, as a theme not irrelevant to the pres- 
ent occasion, may lead us to contemplate the mission of 
good men upon the earth, and the object to which all 
who aspire to this reputation will direct their endeavors. 
Such a man, and a man of such aims, confessedly was 
David ; one, who after the lapse of a thousand years was 
held in the highest veneration by the tribes of Israel ; 
and concerning whom, also, God gave testimony, and 
said : " I have found David, a man after mine own heart, 
which shall fulfil all my will." But this eminent ser- 
vant of God was not called to serve his people after 
" the power of an endless life." A trust was committed 
to his hands, and he labored assiduously to discharge it 
within the allotted time. It was however a transitory 
trust, and he a mortal man ; and hence " after he had 
served his own generation by the will of God, he fell 
on sleep, and was laid unto his fathers, and saw cor- 
ruption." 

I. My first remark then is, that good men, and such 
as aspire to this reputation, are called to service in this 
world. When we speak of service, we include not only 
the idea of activity and diligence, but the direction of 
our efforts to some specific and worthy end. 

The nature of the powers and capacities of our being, 
the unceasing cravings and impulses which are at work 
within us, and which we conclude to be innate, together 



THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 121 

with the abiding presence of outward objects suited to 
attract and stimulate the mind, are unequivocal indi- 
cations that a state of high activity was among the 
designs of God in our creation. The idea, indeed, pre- 
vails with many thoughtful men, that the human mind 
is never otherwise than active, that even sleep does not 
suspend its spontaneous operations, that thought flows 
on in its wild and aimless vagaries even in the absence 
of a volition to direct its course, or of a memory to 
record its transitions. 

But this spontaneous activity, though an essential 
condition to all service, is not the service which it requires 
at our hands. To serve implies an intention of the 
mind to that end. There must first be a distinct object 
proposed, and, next, an effective purpose of the will 
awakened, subordinating the energies of our being to 
this object. The world, in a sense, may experience a 
benefaction where, indeed, it finds no true benefactors 
inasmuch as a large amount of good, as well as evil, 
bears the relation of simple accident to human conduct. 

As it is the will only that raises man to the dignity of 
a moral agent, so it is only when the will is obedient to 
the divine teachings that any action of ours can fall 
within the apostle's category of a " reasonable service." 
What man, then, is called to, is a rational, voluntary 
service, — a service involving toil and watchfulness, pri- 
vation and sacrifice. A specific and worthy end is stead- 
fastly contemplated by the mind, and then the activities 
of body and soul are best directed to secure that end. 
No just idea of service can be entertained that does not 
include intention ; so that a man without an object is 
always out of service. He may, indeed, never be at rest ; 
nevertheless, until his impulses shall take on the law of 
his superior being they can achieve no valuable end, 
11 



122 THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 

except by accident. Now no man can feel that the 
demands of conscience are answered, or that the great 
author of his being is worthily honored, unless he make 
himself a servant, conscious that he has powers where- 
with to serve, and that they were given him to this in- 
tent ; and beholding the immeasurable evil to be allevi- 
ated in the world, where he is permitted for a time to 
sojourn, he knows that a life passed in indolence or 
wasted on unworthy objects will not escape reproval. 
Every good man feels that sloth is sin in the judgment 
of God, and that all is slothfulness that is not done with a 
will, and with an intention of serving. Hence he studies 
to be " diligent in business, fervent in spirit, serving the 
Lord." He would redeem the time, knowing that the 
days are evil. Like Paul, he goes forth to the service 
whereunto he is called, though it be " in weakness and 
fear and in much trembling, serving the Lord with all 
humility," and it may be with " many tears and tempta- 
tions." 

II. Men who aspire to the honor of benefactors, will 
aim preeminently to serve their own generation. This 
David understood to be his vocation, and he entered 
upon his life's labor, girded with all the energies of his 
great mind, and toiled at his task till he fell on sleep, 
and was laid unto his fathers. 

We have before remarked, that the constitution of 
man furnishes indication that he was designed for ac- 
tivity and service ; we may here add to this, that from 
the same source we are instructed into the nature and 
object of that service. No one can doubt that man was 
created for social purposes and ends, as well as for those 
that are personal and individual. The great law of 
fellowship in thoughts, feelings, pursuits, interests, tastes, 
and antipathies, legibly stamped on all the generations 



THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN". 123 

of men ; the sympathy with which rational minds are 
endued for all of their kind, the mutual dependence that 
appears in all the arrangements of life, and the influence 
which each is conscious of receiving from another, all 
point to the social state as man's appropriate sphere, 
and indicate that here he is to find a field of duty as 
well as a source of improvement and happiness. Man 
then is to serve his generation as an object, which, 
though not exclusive of self, is more comprehensive than 
self. David was not content with consulting his own 
private interests. Indeed, he clearly perceived that his 
personal, individual interests were inseparable from im- 
provement in the condition of those around him, as no 
member of the body can be entirely sound so long as 
the body itself is the seat of disease. Hence the man 
who is endued with the spirit of his race, will feel that 
he " dwells among his own people," and will adapt his 
plans and labors to an end more comprehensive than 
his individual self. The world will open before him as 
the field that would engage his assiduities. By all the 
instincts of his moral and social nature he is prompted 
to do good to men as he has opportunity ; yea, as the 
object of chief concern, to seek the kingdom of God and 
his righteousness, the establishment of righteousness, 
peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost among men. 

Moreover, David was concerned to serve his own 
generation. His public policy, his more private schemes 
of usefulness, all had a special reference to the benefit of 
those who were then upon the earth. This was the 
people whom he was called to serve ; although his 
labors, through the providence of God, might continue 
to influence the world for good to all future times. 
And he who is actuated by the spirit and directed by 
the wisdom of this extraordinary man, will be content 



124 THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 

in this to follow his example, instead of amusing him- 
self or feeding his vanity by projecting schemes of use- 
fulness to posterity, — schemes which for the most part 
prove irrelevant and visionary ; he concentrates his 
regards on the living age, the people of his own times ; 
and with all the aids and appliances within his power, 
strives to make them wiser and better and happier. 

If but few men, as remarked by the sagacious Burke, 
are able to comprehend the age in which they live, how 
shall it be expected that the wants, temper, and interest 
of ages which are to succeed will be justly appreciated? 
But every observing man may comprehend his own 
time sufficiently to understand the evils that afflict it, and 
the general remedies appropriate to them ; and more- 
over, he feels within him the spirit of the times in which 
his lot is cast, and thus is fitted to serve his own rather 
than a generation that is still future. It is more the 
part of a puerile admiration, I apprehend, than of sound, 
manly wisdom, which awakens an applause for those 
who live, as the phrase is, in advance of their age ; who, 
overlooking the wants of their own times and neglectful 
of the means in their power to supply these wants, are 
ambitious of a place among the prophets of their race, 
and to be reputed as the men for all times. But let it 
be considered that few indeed are alike fitted for differ- 
ent ages of the world. The successive generations of 
men are found to have each a certain type of its own, — 
a spirit, a set of opinions, customs, prejudices, interests, 
peculiar to itself; and in which those of another and 
by-gone age can but imperfectly participate. Hence, 
almost every man who is made for anything abidingly 
great or good, is made preeminently for his own age. 
Nay, the exception is rarely found historically to exist, 
that the great lights of the human race, whether poet, 



THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 125 

statesman, or philosopher, have not been recognized 
as the master spirits of their own times. Man has a 
power over the present which will not be conceded to 
him in regard to the future ; and not this only, but it is 
through the present, by making it wiser and better, that 
he is enabled, ordinarily, to influence the opinions and 
state of the times which are to follow. 

Few minds among men have been endued with a 
larger scope than that of the poet-king of Judea ; few 
hearts have yearned more intensely for the improvement 
and happiness of their race ; fewer still have possessed 
such ample means of influencing the destinies of future 
times ; yet the men of his own day engrossed the sym- 
pathy and energy of his mind, and it was an honor 
equal to his highest aspirations to have served his own 
generation by the will of God. If it might be said of 
any individual, " that he was the man for all times," 
that individual was Paul the apostle ; nevertheless, the 
thoughts and energies of that man were eminently con- 
centrated on his own generation. His life and exertions 
were, perhaps, precisely such as might have been expec- 
ted, had he acted under the impression that his was to 
be the last age of man. It was not the future, but the 
present, that seemed to fill the whole vision of his mind. 
Like one who felt that " the end of all things was at 
hand," he strove, if possible, to present every man then 
living " perfect in Christ Jesus." Inspired as he was, to 
be the guide of all future ages in the things of God, he 
seemed to feel that his appropriate mission was to serve 
the times in which he lived, and to leave posterity to 
be ministered unto by those whom God might call to 
this end. 

III. Those who aspire to a place among the true bene- 
factors of men, will be studious to serve their generation 
u* 



126 THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 

by the will of God. This was the endeavor of the king 
of Israel, and to this, according to the testimony of God, 
he attained. " For after he had served his own genera- 
tion by the will of God, he fell on sleep." 

The phrase " will of God " may be understood as in- 
dicating the primal source of all moral obligation to ser- 
vice, or the specific rule to which this service should be 
conformed. Among a Christian people it may be assumed 
that man has a rightful, intrinsic claim on the good 
offices of a fellow man, — a claim which meets a response 
in every ingenuous heart, and which will not be dis- 
owned wherever the authority of conscience is respected. 
A spectacle of suffering or injury awakens a sentiment 
of duty, — a conviction, deep and constraining, that a 
fellow man has a claim upon us, which it would be 
wrong as well as dishonorable not to regard. But a sen- 
timent more intensely operative and controlling is present 
to the good man, and which is derived to him from his 
knowledge of the divine will, and a consciousness of the 
rightful and supreme authority of that will. If humanity, 
in all its sorrows and wrongs, can offer no intrinsic claim 
to our sympathy and kind offices ; such a claim it is 
felt, inheres in God, the common Father of all ; and this 
claim he, as the guardian and benefactor of his children, 
is sure to exact. " Do good to all men as ye have 
opportunity. Love your enemies ; bless them that curse 
you; do good to them that hate you, and pray for them 
which despitefully use you and persecute you, that ye 
may be the children of your Father which is in heaven." 
In this recorded will of God, the good man recognizes 
an authority that is not to be questioned, and he bows 
to it in cheerful and loving obedience. The sentiment 
here awakened moved David and all kindred spirits in 
past times to serve their own generation. Not that they 



THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 127 

were indifferent to the claims of humanity as such : they 
were only the more intensely awake to obligations which 
the declared will of God imposed, and which constrained 
them to diligence in whatsoever their hands found to do. 

Moreover, the will of God was the specific rule by 
which the king and poet of Israel was guided in serving 
his generation. He did not consult the maxims of 
prudence and expediency alone in his labors of love ; but 
took counsel evermore at the oracles of God. " Teach 
me to do thy will, for thou art my God," was the burden 
of his morning and evening prayer. Under the heav- 
enly guidance thus secured he went forth, girded with 
a cheerful, resolute spirit, to the toils and assiduities of 
life. As a shepherd boy he tenderly nursed and heroically 
defended the flock committed to his care, with a spirit 
more than chivalrous, and with weapons that bespoke 
only his contempt for the defier of the Lord's hosts, he 
rushed into single combat with an enemy whose very 
presence caused the bravest of the brave to turn pale. 
On the throne of his country, at the head of her armies, 
in the councils of her princes, in the temple of her God ; 
by the victories which he won, by the laws he ordained, 
by the stability and prosperity which he gave to the 
times that went over him, by the knowledge and the 
arts which he diffused, by the morals and piety which he 
nurtured among the people, by the songs with which he 
edified the saints, and inspired the devotions of the 
sanctuary and around the domestic hearth, he executed 
his holy mission of serving his own generation by the 
will of God. 

And what is exemplified in the life of king David, is 
apparent also in the lives of all who have attained to a 
place among the true benefactors of their times. The 
same spirit which constrains to service because it 



128 THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 

accords with the divine intention, will determine us to 
consult his will as to the way and manner of service. 
The high authority which is recognized in imposing the 
duty, will be left to determine in what sphere and form 
this duty is to be discharged. The word of God will 
be taken as the guide to all our endeavors ; for in it is 
revealed to every man who consults it with an earnest, 
docile spirit what the Lord his God would have him to 
do. He will not be careful to choose his own sphere of 
enterprise, but leave it with divine wisdom to indicate 
the path he is to pursue, fearing only that he may run 
without being sent. His aim will be so to serve his own 
generation as, meanwhile and in a higher sense, to serve 
God also. He seeks not great things for himself, for, it 
may be, unto such things he is not called. He is con- 
cerned, not to make the servant conspicuous, but the 
service acceptable and effective ; and hence, like Paul, 
he strives to serve the Lord with all humility, and even 
unto bonds and afflictions," if need be, " not counting his 
life dear unto himself, so that he may finish his course 
with joy." 

IV. A speedy termination awaits the toil and sacrifice 
of those who have chosen to serve their generation by 
the will of God. John " was a bright and shining light," 
and the men of his day rejoiced in the beams which he 
shed upon the world. But his mission was to preach 
the baptism of repentance to all Israel ; and with this 
he finished his course, and was seen no more. Paul, and 
Peter, and John, those holy apostles of Jesus Christ, 
were fit servants, it should seem, in the cause of man 
through all his generations ; but even these " were not 
suffered to continue, by reason of death." The cause of 
human salvation was not yet triumphant ; the lost sheep 
were not all reclaimed to the fold of the Shepherd ; the 



THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 129 

church was not ripe for the translation, — nay, " the world 
was lying in wickedness ; the man of sin, the son of 
perdition who was to go forth and deceive the nations, 
still waited to be revealed in his time. But these holy 
men were not permitted to wrestle with this mystery of 
iniquity, and to guard the souls of men against the 
mischief meditated for them. They had fulfilled their 
ministry, — had served their own generation by the will 
of God, — and now they must fall on sleep, and be laid 
to their fathers." 

And so is the immutable law of divine providence 
that each generation shall furnish its own servants, and 
be content with the living service which itself is able to 
supply. He who hath put times and seasons in his own 
power, hath called men to work in his vineyard, and fixed 
the period of their labors. The good man goeth forth to 
his labor until the evening, doing with his might what- 
ever his hand findeth to do, remembering that " there is no 
work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave 
whither he goeth." When the appointed hour arrives, 
and the shades of evening gather upon his path, he 
obeys the admonition to withdraw, and enter upon his 
rest, though his long cherished hopes are still in the 
bud, his plans half developed, his course arrested 
seemingly at mid-way, and though his heart, like Paul's, is 
oppressed " with great heaviness and continual sorrow" on 
account of his kindred of the human race. God has no 
more for him to do on the earth ; he has only to fall on 
sleep, and be laid to his fathers, and to see corruption. 

Consider, then, O man, whatever be thy station or 
calling, that thou, like David and John, and the holy 
apostles and honored servants of Jesus Christ in every 
age, hast a sphere to occupy, a service to perform for 
thine own generation by the will of God, and reflect how 



130 THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 

short thy time is ! Ask thyself what thou hast done for 
the generation among whom thy lot is cast? Thy 
kindred, thy friends, thy acquaintance ; the men of thy 
years, the youth that are bursting into manhood around 
thee, the people of thy land, the myriads that walk 
the earth with sad and benighted steps, — what service 
hast thou done or attempted for all these? In what 
respect are they wiser, better, happier, for any influ- 
ence which thy toil, or example or prayers have exerted ? 
Hast thou wrought and suffered as have all the true 
benefactors of thy race before thee, wrestling for the prize 
of thy high calling in God ; or hast thou been standing 
idle all the day of thy life ? This day, let us remember, 
is hastening to its close and, whether the task allotted us 
is done or left undone, we must soon fall on sleep, and 
be laid to our fathers. Let it then be our concern hence- 
forth so to live, " serving the Lord with all humility," 
" abounding in prayer, and watching thereunto with all 
perseverance," that the closing scene of our life may be 
cheered by the testimony that we have served our gen- 
eration by the will of God ! 

A few remarks to the graduating class will now close 
my discourse. 

The close of your Academic life, young friends and 
pupils, is now at hand, — the hour when you are to bid 
adieu to each other, to your companions in study, and 
to your instructors and guides, and from this quiet haven 
to lay out your several courses on the broad and turbu- 
lent sea of life. The reflection, that now you meet as 
you will meet no more upon earth, can hardly fail to 
shade with sadness the brow of the most gay and 
thoughtless. It is an hour to hallow the friendships 
which have long been ripening in your bosoms ; and 
surely, most surely, to dash, as with Lethean wave, every 



THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. . 131 

hostile, unkind, ungenerous sentiment that may have, 
insensibly perhaps, gained a lodgment there. 

A question, sufficiently difficult for the far more ma- 
tured and practiced to solve, is now, young friends, forced 
upon your attention, — the question, for what sphere of 
enterprise and labor is your mind best adapted, and in 
which its powers may be exerted with the fairest prospects 
of success and usefulness ? Much, no doubt, depends on 
a wise and satisfactory choice of one's pursuit, as an 
error committed here proves oftentimes an error for life, 
forcing the mind along a path to which its talents and 
habitual bent are unsuited, or subjecting it to the disad- 
vantage of seeking, at too late a period, a new field of 
exertion. On this point, however, it is possible to enter- 
tain an undue and needless solicitude. It is more, per- 
haps, the caprice of the individual mind, than the intrin- 
sic difficulties of any calling, which impedes our success 
or induces to a change. The fitness of the human mind 
to the various fields of exertion and enterprise is deter- 
mined, in most cases, by the force of will which it pos- 
sesses by nature, or has acquired by use and discipline. 
To an instrument so flexible as the mind, so capacious 
of various attainment, so easy of contentment in the 
paths to which it is accustomed, so susceptible of fervor 
in all its successful workings, we cannot well set limits, 
when energized by a strong, determined will. Obstruc- 
tions which are not in their nature insurmountable may 
be expected soon to yield to manful, persevering assaults. 

But great importance must be attached to an early 
choice of some profession, and to a speedy entrance upon 
its labors, when the preparatory culture is completed. 
Professional life, like the choice plants of the garden, 
needs the dew of the morning. It is a matter of regret 
when necessity of any kind detains the youthful student 



132 THE MISSION OF GOOD MEN. 

a single day from the race that is before him. It is true 
he may not be idle, nor his labors gainless to himself or 
without profit to his employers ; but he is wasting on 
secondary and transient pursuits that fervor, — that noble, 
ever-buoyant enthusiasm of youth, — which gives to all 
the abiding, massive growths of mind, their broad expan- 
sion, their deep foliage, and, in the end, their ripe and 
abundant fruit. 

You have been taught the lesson, young men, that 
true and earnest minds, high in resolve, steadfast in prin- 
ciple, patient, untiring hopeful, and throughout per- 
vaded by the spirit of David, and of David's greater Son, 
can alone qualify you to minister to the times in which 
you live. Be it your concern, then, and daily striving 
to make these qualities and spirit your own, that you 
may take part in the ministry to which all are invited. 
Study the people and the age with which you are con- 
nected ; understand their wants and the evils under 
which they suffer ; and unite with all wise, true-hearted 
men in applying the remedy. Let truth, righteousness, 
and virtue derive support from your influence and ex- 
ample. Lend your aid to the cause of education and 
social improvement. Study to adorn the intercourse of 
life with " whatsoever is true and lovely and of good 
report." Honor the institutions of the land and the ordi- 
nances of religion ; and with the benevolent of the age 
strive to diffuse intelligence, personal freedom, good order, 
and Christianity over the peopled earth. Let such aims 
and purposes be the beginning, middle, and end of your 
course, and it matters little where it is run, or under 
what outward forms, its termination here will be peace 
and its after reward glorious. And now may the Lord 
God guide and prosper you all, and preserve you unto 
his heavenly kingdom, through Jesus Christ his Son. 
Amen. 



SERMON II. 

THE ELEMENTS AND CONDITIONS OF USEFULNESS. 1 



"AXD A CERTAIN JEW, NAMED APOLLOS, BORN AT ALEXANDRIA, AN ELOQUENT 
MAN, AND MIGHTY IN THE SCRIPTURES, CAME TO EPHESUS. THTS MAN WAS 
INSTRUCTED IN THE WAY OF THE LORD : AND BEING FERVENT IN THE SPIRIT, 
HE SPAKE AND TAUGHT DILIGENTLY THE THINGS OF THE LORD, KNOWING 
ONLY THE BAPTISM OF JOHN. AND HE BEGAN TO SPEAK BOLDLY IN THE 
SYNAGOGUE: WHOM, WHEN AQUILA AND PRISCILLA HAD HEARD, THEY TOOK 
HIM UNTO THEM, AND EXPOUNDED UNTO HIM THE WAY OF GOD MORE 
perfectly." — Acts xviii. 24r— 26. 

These passages supply us with most of our knowledge 
of one of the lights and ornaments of the Apostolic 
church, — a youthful disciple, as we are wont to conceive 
of him, scarcely less remarkable for the modest and 
deeply earnest spirit that possessed him, than for his 
intellectual endowments, and the important service he 
rendered the cause of Christianity. 

The birth place of Apollos is particularly noticed by 
the inspired penman, for the purpose, it should seem, of 
apologizing, on the one hand, for his imperfect knowledge 
of the Christian doctrine, and, on the other, of accoun- 
ting for his capacity and skill as a public speaker. The 
city of Alexandria, situated in lower Egypt, and on the 
borders of the Mediterranean, was one of the noblest 
monuments of the very extraordinary man who projected 
it, and gave to it the prestige of his own name. For 

1 Baccalaureate, Burlington, 1851. 
12 



134 THE ELEMENTS AND 

more than two hundred years it was the residence of 
the kings of Egypt ; here was displayed the commercial 
wealth of the East and the West ; and in extent and 
populousness it yielded only to Rome. 

But what, perhaps, contributed most to the celebrity 
of this place, in the times immediately prior and subse- 
quent to the Christian era, was its learned men and 
learned institutions. It was here that Philosophy and 
the Arts, dislodged from their ancient seats by the tur- 
bulence of the times, sought a place for shelter and re- 
pose. The schools of Alexandria were among the most 
celebrated in the world. Here was the depository of 
the literary treasures of all times and of all countries, 
which in the apocryphal figures of the historian have 
been swelled to the number of hundreds of thousands, 
and which at last were consumed by the fanatical zeal 
of the warriors of the Prophet. Here, by a society of 
learned Jews, were the scriptures of the Old Testament 
translated into Greek. Here, moreover, was the seat of 
the African Church, which at one period could adorn her 
councils with the presence of nine hundred Bishops, 
and whose sons were nurtured for eminence, in all time, 
at these fountains of critical and theological learning. 

This was the place where Apollos was born, and in 
these schools of philosophy and eloquence was he edu- 
cated. Among the Jewish converts to John's Baptism, 
who visited this city, and with whom he associated, 
was he " instructed in the way of the Lord," and thus 
fitted to become a preacher of power to his sceptical 
countrymen. 

Apollos came to Ephesus about the time that Paul 
left that city on his third journey to Jerusalem. At an 
age when books were scarce, and the facilities for in- 
structing the common mind few, learned men were 



CONDITIONS OF USEFULNESS. 135 

accustomed to visit the chief cities, and open popular 
lectures in morals and philosophy for the amusement or 
instruction of the people. Apollos probably adopted a 
similar course, as furnishing the most suitable occasions 
for rendering his gifts and attainments serviceable to the 
cause of truth and righteousness. He was not at this 
time a Christian minister in the ordinary acceptation of 
the word ; and it is doubtful whether he sustained any 
office in the church, or was even, in the proper sense, a 
member of it. He taught, or lectured, not in a Chris- 
tian assembly, but in a Jewish synagogue, although the 
subject-matter of his discourse was Christ, the Messiah 
of the prophets. Him, he set forth to his countrymen, as 
worthy of all acceptation, arid showed by cogent and 
persuasive arguments, that in Jesus of Nazareth was this 
Christ, " the hope and consolation of Israel," to be found. 
The Jewish Scriptures had been the theme of his pro- 
found study and meditation ; and to the examination of 
them, especially of the doctrine of the Messiah, had he 
sedulously applied the powers and acquisitions of his 
mind. On this high theme, " God manifest in the flesh, 
believed on in the world," which alone reconciles Reason 
to Faith, and awakens the voice of hope and peace in 
the bosom of the guilty, he could discourse with unction 
and power ; " for he mightily convinced the Jews, and 
that publicly, showing by the scriptures that Jesus was 
Christ." 

Among the multitude who heard and admired the 
eloquent appeals of this synagogue preacher, were 
Aquila and Priscilla. These two disciples of the Lord 
were in a private and somewhat humble condition in life, 
as appears from the handicraft which they followed ; 
but they were persons of weight and intelligence, and 
had been thoroughly taught in the school of Christ. They 



136 THE ELEMENTS AND 

are represented as having no permanent abode, but as 
passing from city to city and from country to country, 
seeking opportunities for nurturing their own souls in 
the knowledge and grace of God, and for rendering aid 
and comfort to the needy and persecuted among the dis- 
ciples. Strangers and pilgrims on the earth, we find them 
first on the shores of the Euxine, next at Rome, again, 
at Corinth, and still again, at Ephesus. Paul speaks of 
them as his " helpers in Christ Jesus ; " and adds this high 
commendation of them, " who have for my life laid 
down their own : unto whom not only I give thanks, 
but also all the churches of the Gentiles." These disci- 
ples perceived the defects that were prominent in the 
public instructions of Apollos ; and at the same time 
appreciated the great service which his powers, under 
wise and skilful direction, might render the church. In 
the hope of supplying his mind with more adequate 
views of Christian doctrine, they received him into their 
own hoase, and there privately " expounded unto him the 
way of God more perfectly." To the teachings of these 
unpretending disciples he listened with an earnest and 
docile spirit, and was guided by them to a more thorough 
understanding of the truth of Christ. Moreover, through 
their kind offices he was introduced into visible fellow- 
ship with the Brethren ; and finally, by the church at 
Ephesus, sent forth as one duly qualified and commis- 
sioned to minister " to the heirs of salvation." 

From the notice made in the text of this individual, 
we are led to contemplate, the elements and conditions 
of usefulness ; or, the qualities and attainments which 
fitted Apollos, and may fit all young men for good ser- 
vice in their day and generation. 

Among the conditions of usefulness adverted to in 
the text, we notice, — 



CONDITIONS OF USEFULNESS. 137 

I. That of general Culture and Discipline. When 
Apollos is introduced to us as a man of Alexandria, it 
is, as we have already conjectured, to prepare our minds 
for the part ascribed to him in the sequel of the narra- 
tive. With the name of that city were associated learn- 
ing, philosophy, books, institutions, the spirit of liberal 
culture, and the aids and incentives thereto. And again, 
when the inspired author — studiously reserved in the 
bestowment of complimentary epithets — characterizes 
him as a " mighty " man and " eloquent," it is, we may 
reasonably infer, with a view to apprise us that gifts and 
attainments not then common among the advocates of 
Christianity had been gained to the cause of the truth. 
All the allusions made and epithets employed, as well 
as the high tone of argument and address ascribed to 
him, — so unlike the simple testimonies, or the cool brief 
statements of the inspired teachers, — seem intended to 
draw our attention to the gifts and accomplishments of 
the man. We associate the scholar with the advocate of 
revealed truth. We are in expectation of something 
worthy of the place and of the schools from which he 
came, — something that shall remind us of the great 
masters who then adorned those seats of learning, — of 
those glorious monuments of the thought and scholar- 
ship of elder times there brought together, and among 
which he had himself been nurtured. 

And in these suggestions of the sacred historian, 
though few and brief, and possibly obscure, the inquisi- 
tive, ingenuous youth will discover things which merit his 
attention. He will detect here the presence of qualities 
which even the Divine spirit does not choose to pass 
over in silence, — qualities which come of application and 
study, and hence are attainable by all who have the 
heart and the will to claim them, — qualities, in sho t ; 

12* 



138 THE ELEMENTS AND 

by which men become powerful for good in their gen- 
eration. 

Culture, then, we conclude, holds a place among the 
essential conditions and elements of usefulness, — culture 
that is broad, deep, and diversified, storing the mind with 
the choice fruits of study, compacting and disciplining 
its powers for strong and skilful action in the hour of 
need. It is this which makes men mighty among men. 
Usefulness, it should be considered, resolves itself into 
the power of influencing the character and habits of 
men, and through these, as the ordinary method, of 
improving their condition and prospects. Character, as 
involving in the fine ideal of the Apostle, " whatsoever 
things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatso- 
ever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, what- 
soever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good 
report," offers to the philanthropist not only an object of 
intrinsic and transcendent value, but also the determin- 
ing condition, of whatever is truly good in the present 
or future. The nature and end of moral government, 
which ultimately determine all questions of human 
weal or woe, require that the welfare of the individ- 
ual and of society be committed to their own custody. 
Man, and organic bodies of men, supply each the web 
of its own destiny. Character, with the habits and 
course of life which flow from it, as streams from their 
fountain, has so wide a control in the field of human 
welfare, as to leave but narrow scope for chance, contin- 
gency, or accident. The best man is certainly, in the 
large view of things, the happiest man ; and hence, he is 
the most useful man and the best citizen who exerts 
the happiest influence on human character, and supplies 
the firmest supports to virtue. 

Moreover, it should be distinctly considered that hu- 



CONDITIONS OF USEFULNESS. 139 

man usefulness resolves itself mainly into the power of 
influencing the opinions of men. Without disturbing the 
metaphysical question, whether character is determined 
by opinions, or opinions by character, it may still be con- 
ceded on all hands, that opinions do govern men, and 
govern the world, and that it is through these alone that 
mind can approach mind, or permanently affect its char- 
acter and well-being. We know of no way of biasing 
men but by influencing their opinions. Facts, argu- 
ments, motives, examples, eloquent appeals, in short, 
all the means and appliances of suasion, seek this as 
their common mark and end. The aim is to create an 
opinion where none exists ; or to supplant a false opin- 
ion with one which accords with truth ; or to define 
with sharp, deep lines one that was shapeless and shad- 
owy, — to give fixedness to the evanescent, and life to the 
dead. Beyond this I know not what mind can do for a 
fellow-mind : all persuasive instrumentalities are power- 
less only as they affect opinions. It is indeed conceded 
that men do not always obey their best opinions ; but 
it is insisted on that they always follow on the track of 
some opinion ; and moreover, that they never quietly 
refuse the guidance of a good opinion, except when it is 
overshadowed by the prominence of an evil one. We 
withhold men from the ways of vice and crime and 
infamy ; we reclaim and reform, we build them up in 
seemly habits and to a virtuous life, only as we can in- 
fluence the character of their opinions, or add to their 
fixedness and power. 

Since, then, to influence opinions is the first and main 
thing to be attempted in all endeavors at doing good, 
it is easy to perceive the dependence of usefulness on 
mental cultivation. Opinions are sometimes formed, 
but as often, perhaps, are they adopted ; and in the one 



140 THE ELEMENTS AND 

case they may be influenced by the arguments which 
an intelligent mind may suggest, and in the other by 
the confidence which it is able to inspire. The power 
of intelligence, superior to that which wealth or rank 
or station exerts, is attainable by all who earnestly 
covet it ; and upon this as a foundation, may a super- 
structure of usefulness be raised, which will awaken the 
admiration of all who are truly good. 

II. Another element of usefulness noticed in the ex- 
ample before us, is aptitude. There was something be- 
yond general culture, in the case of the synagogue 
speaker, which attracted the notice of the inspired pen- 
man, and which revealed, in part at least, the secret of 
that mastery with which he swayed the acute and 
sceptical audience at Ephesus. In characterizing him 
as " mighty in the scriptures," so far from disparaging 
his literary attainments, he would rather represent him 
as transcending the limits and type of ordinary scholar- 
ship ; and to the stores of secular knowledge adding 
those that are gathered on higher and less frequented 
fields. Philosophy, poetry, eloquence, logic, criticism, 
were all cultivated in the schools of Alexandria. Here 
the father of criticism was himself criticised ; and the 
prince of philosophers more thoroughly comprehended, 
and followed by a more numerous train of reverent dis- 
ciples, than in the walks of the Academy. But there is 
an intimation before us, that Apollos sought a broader 
range of literary pursuits than was ordinarily traversed 
in that age. Not content with exploring the fields of pa- 
gan learning, his Hebrew mind felt the attraction of that 
purer philosophy, that diviner theology, that highest, 
most exact form of all discipline, — the discipline of faith, 
which the literary annals of his own nation supplied. 
From the schools of the philosophers he passed upward 



CONDITIONS OF USEFULNESS. 141 

into the school of the prophets, and sitting at the oracle 
of God he listened to utterances more profound, more 
awful, more enrapturing, than were ever heard from the 
science or song of earth. His studies were not confined 
to the scriptures ; they rather culminated at that point, 
— the point towards which great minds and profound 
scholars in all ages are seen, as by a general law of mind, 
naturally to tend. " He was mighty in the scriptures.?' 

But he was also " an eloquent man." Culture may 
be broad and exact and, in a degree, symmetrical ;: and 
yet lack the highest intellectual quality of usefulness. 
The mind may be fitted only, though fitted eminently, 
for meditative repose. There may be strength^ and capac- 
ity, and the accumulation of golden treasures, and yet, 
like the stout, richly-freighted ship, without rudder or 
canvas, it lies motionless on the deep, or drifts only by 
the force of wind and tide. Of minds thus cultivated 
we may say in the quaint language of the prophet, 
" their strength is to stand still." Eloquence, in the 
meaning of the text, is aptitude superadded to general 
attainments and discipline ;. it expresses that power with 
which mind acts upon mind, influencing its opinions, 
controlling its purposes, inspiring it with nobler aims, and 
breathing into it the breath of a higher, purer life. It is 
the soul speaking to a fellow-soul, and uttering the lan- 
guage of such thought as all souls can answer to, but 
which are born and nurtured only in meditative minds. 
Utterance is the essential idea of eloquence, — the giving 
forth of thought, not to the winds or to the desert, but to 
the souls of men ; and such thoughts as the soul of man 
needs, and by which it will be awakened, and borne on- 
ward and upward in earnest pursuit of the highest and 
best. It, hence, presupposes capacity, discipline, attain- 
ments, and accomplishments of all kinds and of the 



142 THE ELEMENTS AND 

highest excellence ; but it presupposes more than this, — 
a deep and cherished affinity of soul with its kind, and an 
habitude of mind to concentrate its powers on an end 
out of and beyond itself. It involves a sympathy with 
human life, with the living beings who surround us, with 
their needs, their sufferings, and their sorrows. It im- 
plies an acquaintance with the character of men, their 
capacity, their state of trial and temptation ; a knowledge 
of human opinions, and the history of opinions, — how 
they rise, how they influence human life and happiness, 
how they are fortified, and by what methods they may 
be corrected. It presupposes, moreover, a familiar ac- 
quaintance with all the native channels of intercourse 
between man and man : the way by which passions may 
be soothed, enmity disarmed, prejudice allayed, and the 
mind enabled to secure the sympathy of a fellow-mind 
and to inspire it with confidence. In short, there must 
be an adaptation of the instrument to the end sought. 
And in this aptitude lies the power of cultivated mind 
over a fellow-mind. It comes from the study of man, — 
of man who has errors to be corrected, vices to be eradi- 
cated, dangers to be avoided, sorrows to be dried up, a 
soul to be saved. And the mind that is inclined to such 
studies and aims will seek to become " mighty in the 
scriptures : " for here it learns more of man — of his true 
character, of his needs and capability, of the disease that 
afflicts him, of the " health and cure " provided for him, 
and the high destiny that awaits him — than from all 
other sources. 

III. Another element of usefulness which attracts 
notice in the example before us is a capacity for earnest, 
zealous exertion. Zeal, I am aware, is a word of evil 
omen in these days, and enthusiasm is wont to be iden- 
tified, in popular cant, with fanaticism; and both to be 



CONDITIONS OF USEFULNESS. 143 

held forth as alike degrading to human nature and pes- 
tilential to the health and well being of society. Now 
there is doubtless something common, and something 
good that is common, to both these qualities ; and yet 
they are distinguishable from each other both in essence 
and tendency. Each implies an earnest and fervid mind 
acting under a strong and centralizing purpose ; but fan- 
aticism is such a mind misled by a false idea, and en- 
thusiasm, a like mind enlightened and guided by a great 
and essential truth. And this makes all possible differ- 
ence between them. The one becomes a power of evil 
— wild, erratic, and fearful, frightful in its potency; the 
other an enlightened spirit of good, obedient to law, 
because in alliance with that truth which is the mother 
of all law ; and " full of mercy and good fruits." It is 
by associating enthusiasm with its opposite, that it has 
fallen into reproach among men, and come to be reck- 
oned as one of the follies and vices of the mind. But 
this is overlooking the distinction between truth and 
falsity ; between the real and the visionary ; between an 
everlasting principle and a transient conceit. Under- 
lying both phenomena is an earnest, truthful, energetic 
spirit ; but in the one case it is taken up into some fool- 
ish conceit or wild delusion, and issues forth in a silly 
visionary, or grim fanatic and madman ; while in the 
other, it becomes an element kindred to eternal truth, 
takes form and substance and vitality from it, and thus 
supplies virtue with its ornaments, and the world with 
its benefactors. 

Hitherto we have spoken of culture and aptitude as 
instruments of usefulness ; but it is the fervor of the 
spirit, the earnest, soul-girding purpose, with which 
Apollos was gifted that makes these instruments power- 
ful for good. " And being fervent in the spirit, he spake 



114 THE ELEMENTS AND 

and taught diligently the things of the Lord," is the 
description given of one who " mightily convinced " his 
audience of a great truth, against which they were forti- 
fied by all the force of education, and national sentiment, 
and party zeal. A new light had risen upon the earth, 
before which the shadows of former ages were melting 
away. It had fallen, though dimly, on the schools of 
Alexandria, and awakened, at least in one youthful 
mind, ideas of hope and promise not soon to be extin- 
guished. Tidings had been announced which were to 
fill the whole earth with joy, and they had called up the 
deep yearnings of a soul made ready to receive them. 
A new theory of life now opened upon his mind, casting 
new lights and shades over all things seen and unseen, 
revealing duties which had before lain hid, inviting to 
unaccustomed toils and assiduities, and crowned with a 
higher end and a nobler prize. While he mused the fire 
burned. The scholar pants to become the missionary ; 
and forsaking the retreats of science, he visits the resorts 
of men, that he may impart to his kindred and to his 
race the gift of God, and guide their feet into the ways 
of life and peace. Here, then, we recognize an essential 
condition of eminent usefulness in the response of a will- 
ing mind to the call of truth. The synagogue preacher 
spake and taught effectively, because " he was fervent in 
the spirit." His utterance was earnest and convincing, 
because the thoughts which moved the minds of his 
audience had first stirred his own soul to its utmost 
depths. Nothing is more true than that mind is depen- 
dent on its own cherished ideas for the force with which 
it acts on fellow minds. An idea is a thing of life ; it 
demands utterance ; it compels the soul in which it is 
born to ask audience of fellow souls ; like the word of 
the Lord, it is a fire in the bones of the prophets, and it 



CONDITIONS OF USEFULNESS. 145 

gives no rest till permitted to go forth freely on the 
errand of enlightenment and mercy on which it is sent. 
" Woe is me if, I preach not the gospel ; " was the excla- 
mation of an apostle ; and a like necessity is felt to be 
laid on all men who are truly incited to serve their gen- 
eration by the will of God. 

IV. Another element of usefulness exemplified in the 
text, is that of an inquisitive united to a docile spirit. 
It seems to have been by slow and successive stages of 
instruction and study, that Apollos passed from the dim 
light of Moses and the prophets into the full effulgence 
of the Christian faith. His early acquaintance with the 
Hebrew scriptures might have awakened him to a con- 
sciousness of the soul's needs, and led him, in common 
with the thoughtful and devout of his nation, to antici- 
pate the advent of the Messiah. His first transition? 
however, if such it may be called, was to the baptism of 
John ; in which was united the revival of the spirit and 
power of the ancestral religion, together with a strong 
foreshadowing of a better hope. He yielded himself to 
the light and guidance that were vouchsafed, and confid- 
ingly advanced as far as the lessons of the great Refor- 
mer were able to conduct him. But the spirit of 
inquiry and expectancy had been awakened, the morn- 
ing star had appeared, and he set himself to watch the 
rising of that sun of righteousness whose beams were 
to heal the nations. It was a great achievement to 
have released himself from the power of an ancient su- 
perstition, and to be able to discern in the doctrine of a 
spiritual repentance, " the way of the Lord." Neverthe- 
less, from the school of John to the school of Jesus was 
an arduous step for a Jewish mind. But the spirit of the 
scholar, of the earnest, devout disciple taught obedience 

13 



146 THE ELEMENTS AND 

to all truth by the high discipline which cometh from 
above, enabled him to surmount all obstacles in search 
of the soul's chief good, and to shed the light of a noble 
example on his own times and those that were to follow. 
And how instructive and inciting are even the hints 
and sketches which the inspired pen has left of this 
youthful disciple of John. He was at once the master 
and the pupil, while he discoursed before public assem- 
blies and diligently instructed those who were less 
enlightened than himself; he meanwhile neglected no 
opportunities to supply his own mind with a larger 
measure of that truth which maketh free. And a more 
admirable example of that docile, childlike spirit which 
the gospel inculcates, curbing and softening the ardent 
and impetuous temperament with which it blends, can 
nowhere be found, than he himself has supplied on the 
occasion noticed in the text. He appears before us, a 
young man fresh from the famous schools of Alexandria. 
There he had been nurtured at the fountains of science 
and learning, been associated with the eminent men of 
the times, had supplied his intellectual stores from the 
largest collection of books in the world, and been disci- 
plined in the practice of elocution by masters of the art. 
Richly accomplished by nature and severe study, he comes 
to the city of Ephesus, itself renowned for ages in art 
and refinement. He appears in their public assemblies, 
wins the favor of an unwilling audience by his fascinat- 
ing address, assails and overturns their deeply-seated 
opinions, and then bears them along, spell-bound, on 
the resistless current of his own thoughts. From this 
scene of high and successful effort he retires, not to the 
mansions of the wealthy and great to be admired and 
caressed, but to the cottage of two humble disciples, 
at whose feet we behold him sitting, an earnest and de- 



CONDITIONS OF USEFULNESS. 147 

vout listener, while " they expound to him the way of 
God more perfectly." 

Behold in this example the true tenderness of genuine 
scholarship ; the docile, childlike temper of the earnest- 
minded disciple, seeking that he may find, and learning 
that he may instruct. Now he explores the ancient 
records of Moses, and now the symbolic page of the 
Prophets. Here he listens to the disciples of John, and 
there to the tent-makers, more profoundly read than him- 
self in the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven ; intent 
only to push his way upward into purer regions and to 
wider prospects, and to be able to dispense a higher 
remedy, even the fulness of the blessing of the gospel of 
Christ, to a sin distempered, and sorrow-stricken world. 
Here is no vulgar vanity, no conceited dogmatism, 
no deferring to ancient superstitions, no despising the 
unlettered hand that proffers a light to his obscure 
path, no weariness, no faltering in the race ; but a seri- 
ous, steadfast, hopeful, striving for the prize of his 
high calling, and that he may become a guide to them 
that sit in darkness. Everything indicates a resolute 
endeavor to become strong, to the end that a higher 
power may be exerted for the glory of God and the 
well-being of his race. To a broad and generous 
culture is united a skilful adaptation of all gifts and 
attainments to the nature and wants of his fellow men ; 
the flame of a holy and philanthropic zeal is supplied 
by those burning thoughts which come of daily and 
nightly study of the oracles of God, while all the habi- 
tudes of mind and heart are chastened and adorned 
by that meek and " easily to be entreated " spirit, which 
sheds a guiding and attractive light on the paths of all 
who behold it. 

Let, then, the youth who nobly strives to leave the 



148 THE ELEMENTS AND 

world in a better, happier state than when he found it, 
study the elements of human strength, as supplied by 
the example before us, and learn on what conditions 
he himself may be permitted to serve his generation by 
the will of God. There is a theory of human life, we 
have seen, on which, by the mere force of human gifts 
and industry, hallowed and aided by divine grace, the 
uninspired mind has been able to assert its place among 
the chiefest of the Apostles, the honored leaders and 
guides of the church, and with them to transmit his 
name and deeds to the end of time. Thanks be unto 
God, that there is a sphere of usefulness open to the 
sons of poverty and humble birth, a temple, even the 
grateful memories of men, in which their names may 
stand recorded long after the influence of mere wealth 
and title has passed away and is forgotten. 

Invited by the train of thoughts in which we have 
indulged, and the obvious proprieties of the occasion, 
I now turn for a moment to the youth in this assem- 
bly who wait for a parting word of sympathy and good 
counsel from my lips. For myself, then, young friends 
of the senior class, and for those my associates, who 
for a longer period have attended you in the walks of 
study, watching over you with paternal solicitude, sym- 
pathizing in your toils, cheering your exertions and 
rejoicing in your success, I congratulate you on the 
completion of your collegiate course, and your speedy 
entrance upon the more attractive scenes of active 
life. 

Pleasant, I trust, and not without profit, has been 
your connection with this seat of learning; and yet, 
after years of confinement to uniform rules of discipline, 
and of exclusion from the intercourse of kindred and 
early friends, the anticipation of change is naturally 



CONDITIONS OF USEFULNESS. 149 

grateful to the mind. And though a feeling of regret 
passes over us, as when the elder sons take leave of the 
paternal mansion ; nevertheless, as in that case, the 
mind is sustained by the thought, that they are sons of 
promise who go forth, and that they will prove them- 
selves not unworthy of the home in which they have 
been nurtured. 

Our best wishes, our warmest prayers, beloved pupils, 
attend you; and rest assured that in your dispersion 
over the earth our thoughts and inquiries will follow 
you, and that whatever tidings may come of your suc- 
cess or disaster, they will not fall on indifferent ears. 

As I speak to you, young men, the thought rushes 
over me that we stand together in a Christian assembly 
and under the light of the Sabbath for the last time. 
In circumstances like these, we meet no more ! May 
this solemn, saddening reflection serve to extinguish 
every unkind and envious feeling which may have insin- 
uated itself into any mind, and to hallow the friendship 
which for years has been ripening in your bosoms ; may 
it incite each one to pledge himself, in this place of our 
devotions, by his respect for his comrades, by his affection 
for the institution which has nurtured him, by his regard 
for the cause of learning and of human improvement, 
by whatever is painful in the past or hopeful in the fu- 
ture, henceforth to live for no groveling or unworthy 
end. 

Earth spreads before you, young men, an ample field 
for exertion ; inviting you to worthy aims and inspiring 
you with bright hopes and the promise of noble rewards. 
A race, distempered in all its members, needy and sor- 
row-stricken, asks your sympathy and aid. Turn not 
away your eye from this sad spectacle, nor close your ear 
to the sighings that come up from all her coasts. Look 

13* 



150 THE ELEMENTS AND 

steadfastly in the face the woes of a brother, and stifle 
not the generous beatings of a truly cultivated soul. En- 
viable is the privilege of the youth who is not only 
permitted, but qualified by liberal study and discipline, 
to minister to the wants of his race ; to enlighten the 
ignorant, to reclaim the erring, to soothe the sorrowing, 
and shed the light of hope and high resolve on its dwell- 
ings of despair. But this is the true mission of the 
scholar, — this "the way of the Lord," in which the gen- 
uine disciple is instructed. To this " high calling of 
God," young men, are you all invited ; to this end are all 
your gifts and attainments adapted ; to this may all hu- 
man culture be made subservient. 

Let culture, then, in its highest, noblest forms, be the 
middle and ending of your life, as it already has been 
the beginning. Pursue it earnestly ; pursue it persever- 
ingly ; pursue it by all aids and appliances, however hum- 
ble, and with a spirit that is at once heroic and childlike. 
It was a memorable saying of the great artist, Michael 
Angelo, when, with the burden of eighty years upon 
him, he was found alone in the solitary recesses of the 
Colosseum, musing on the monuments of ancient archi- 
tecture, " I am still at my lessons." This simple phrase, 
" still at my lessons," reveals the whole secret of growth 
in all truly great minds, — minds that achieve great things 
for their day and generation. To such minds old age 
never comes ; years may multiply ; but they are years of 
ever-renewing youth, — of youth with its freshness, and 
yearnings, and joyousness. Cherish, then, young men, 
the life of your youth ; cherish it on the only condition 
on which the boon is proffered, — studious toil, and the 
nurturing of a deep and lively affinity for the men of 
your times, for men in all conditions. It was well said 
by the father of modern philosophy, " that every man 



CONDITIONS OF USEFULNESS. 151 

owes something to his profession ; " but remember that 
isolated professions are but fragments of the whole ; 
only means to a higher end, in which all duties culmi- 
nate, — the glory of God and the well-being of our race. 
To this end let us evermore have a regard ; for it, let us 
evermore strive. 

And now may the Lord God, the Shepherd and 
Bishop of souls, be the guide and strength of your youth, 
and preserve you all unto his heavenly kingdom. Amen. 



SERMON III. 



THE DIVINE METHOD FOR CONDUCTING RELIGIOUS 

INQUIRY. 1 



" IP I HAVE TOLD YOU EARTHLY THINGS, AND YE BELIEVE NOT, HOW SHALL 
YE BELIEVE IP I TELL YOU OP HEAVENLY THINGS ? " — John iii. 12. 



The interview between our Saviour and Nicodemus, 
in which occur the words of my text, was sought, we 
jnay in charity suppose, from honest and ingenuous 
motives on the part of the Pharisee. The name of 
Jesus had become familiar to his ear, and observing 
the quiet and serious manner of his life, the miracles 
he wrought, and the words of power which he uttered, 
he was led into the popular belief " that a teacher was 
come from God," and he became interested to know 
what instruction he had to impart to mankind. 

It was a meeting of earnest minds, on a serious occa- 
sion ; and, without preface or apology, Jesus began by 
announcing " the kingdom of God," its nature, and its 
relations to a fallen race, and the conditions on which 
the rights and privileges of citizenship depended. It 
was a kingdom adapted to the spirits of men, and pre- 
eminently to the spiritual wants of the sinful, and, in 
the emphatic phrases, " born from above," " born of the 
Spirit," were indicated the terms of admittance. " That 

1 Anniversary of the Alumni, Andover Theological Seminary, 1851. 



DIVINE METHOD OF RELIGIOUS INQUIRY. 153 

which is born of the flesh is flesh ; and that which is 
born of the Spirit is spirit." In other words, as man 
by virtue of his natural birth takes on the properties 
of humanity, and is fitted to become a subject of an 
earthly kingdom, and entitled to its protection and fos- 
tering care, so by a supernatural birth is the soul endued 
with its own true life, "made partaker of the divine 
nature," and, as a " lively stone," fitted for its place in 
" that house which is from heaven." 

But to this "master of Israel" these were strange 
doctrines, and hard of digestion. " The kingdom of 
God," as distinguishable in essence or superiority from 
that outward, sensuous economy, which had been intro- 
duced through the ministry of Moses, was something 
he did not understand. Equally unintelligible were the 
words "born from above," "the Spirit," "born of the 
Spirit." All was enigmatical and unsatisfying to his 
mind, and in the simplicity of a truly awakened soul he 
exclaims, " how can these things be ! " 

The Teacher, who had a perfect intuition of the truth 
of what he had uttered, and of its entire adaptation to 
the inmost needs of man, feigned surprise at the obtuse- 
ness of the listener, while he gently rebuked his igno- 
rance on these first and essential principles of religion. 
" Art thou a master of Israel," a teacher and guide to 
the souls of men, " and knowest not these things ? " In 
the things I have uttered, no deeper mystery is involved 
than what attaches to the objects and occurrences of 
daily life. Why then shall my testimony in these mat- 
ters be declined, while other things, equally incapable of 
being explained or comprehended, are readily admitted ? 
The law which predetermines the formation of the 
human body, how it is made to assume its own specific 
shape and members, whence and how it derives its life, 



154 THE DIVINE METHOD FOR 

and the rational soul that inhabits it, are mysteries you 
do not attempt to explain or to fathom. Moreover the 
causes of the wind, and the unseen forces which influ- 
ence its velocity and direction, may be too deep and 
recondite to be explored ; nevertheless, who does not 
believe in the wind? Though you may not see it, yet 
you feel its refreshing current, and can trace the path o*f 
its desolating power; nay, you doubt not there is a cause 
for it in nature, and that its force and direction in all 
cases, are determined by established laws. Why then 
do you marvel that I said unto thee, ■ ye must be born 
again." Why do you marvel that I speak of the birth of 
the spirit, and of the power of the Holy Ghost whence 
it proceeds. To the consciousness of the inner man these 
things may be no less obvious than outward objects are 
palpable to the eye that beholds them ; while the mystery 
in the one case is no more profound and inexplicable 
than in the other. Verily, verily, I say unto thee, we 
speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen ; 
and ye receive not our witness." " If I have told you 
earthly things and ye believe not, how shall ye believe 
if I tell you of heavenly things ? " In the reproof here 
administered to the over-cautious spirit of the Phari- 
see, and in declining to discuss topics, however impor- 
tant in themselves, which lie in advance of those that 
have not as yet been conceded, our great Teacher has, 
incidentally, if you please, evolved, — the true method of 
religious inquiry and instruction. 

It is assumed in the text that the principle of order, 
involving dependence and succession, essentially belongs 
to the truths which Jesus was commissioned to promul- 
gate ; an ascending series, in which some things have a 
logical precedence to others, and to the understanding of 
which there are facilities which may not exist in regard 



CONDUCTING RELIGIOUS INQUIRY. 155 

to truths of a higher class. Now the true method of 
religious inquiry is such an arrangement as shall best 
harmonize throughout with this principle of order. 
Christianity is a system as distinguished from a promis- 
cuous grouping together of isolated and independent 
verities ; unity and independence are predicable of it, no 
less than manifoldness. Some parts of it manifestly 
contain the conditions of other parts, and the admission 
of the former is essential to an adequate understanding 
of the latter. " If ye believe not earthly things, how 
shall ye believe the heavenly ? " 

In the use of the word, " earthly," our Saviour will not 
be understood, in this connection, as having regard to 
things material, or that belong to the world of nature. 
He was administering to an inquiring spirit, and in mat- 
ters that pertained exclusively to the salvation of the 
soul ; hence the only things that could be at all perti- 
nent to the occasion, were such as had a vital affinity 
to the inner spiritual world of man. They were those 
identical truths which formed the subject of discussion 
on that very evening, between Jesus and Nicodemus ; to 
wit, the soul's sin and death, its need of a birth from 
above, the interposition of the Spirit to this end, and the 
kingdom of God, which is righteousness, peace, and joy 
in the Holy Ghost. These were truths for men on the 
earth, things that took place here, and which might be 
experienced by all men ; they were the principles and 
foundation of all true religion. 

Again, by " heavenly things " we are not to understand 
things that are generically different from the earthly, but 
such as occupy a higher place in one and the same series 
of divine truths. They are farther removed from the 
apprehension of man ; and though they may have a po- 
tential existence for the mind, yet their actual existence 



156 THE DIVINE METHOD FOR 

in human consciousness depends on conditions beyond 
our control. They have their source and hiding-place in 
the wisdom and counsels of the Eternal; the sphere 
reserved for their final and complete manifestation is the 
heavenly world, while in imperfect measure only are they 
brought down to man in his present state, through the 
medium of a supernatural revelation. These latter truths 
are in an important sense conditioned on the former, — 
the heavenly on the earthly ; they presuppose their ex- 
istence, and indeed become truths to the mind only as 
the former are first apprehended. " If ye believe not 
earthly things, how shall ye believe the heavenly ? " 

Having thus attempted to determine the design and 
scope of the text, I proceed to offer some general remarks 
in elucidation of the divine method for conducting religi- 
ous inquiry. 

I. Certain elements of religious truth must be assumed 
as potentially present, if not actually developed, in the 
minds of men. It is only on the admission of this state- 
ment, that the doctrine of human accountableness, in 
the absence of a supernatural revelation, can for a mo- 
ment be entertained. If there be no provision in man's 
essential being, by means of which he may become 
apprised of his relation to things unseen and eternal, 
and of the duties and liabilities consequent thereon, it is 
quite inconceivable that a moral constitution should be 
attributed to him, or that he should be held subject to 
the retributions of Law. Indeed, in the absence of such 
provision, it is not easy to perceive how the mind can be 
made accessible to those moral sentiments which it is 
the object of Revelation to awaken and cherish. 

Among these original convictions of the mind we may 
recognize that of the being of God ; in other words, of 
some Being infinitely superior to ourselves in power and 



CONDUCTING EELIGIOUS INQUIRY. 157 

intelligence, on whom we are dependent, and to whose 
authority amenable ; that the soul is subject by the 
necessities of its being to an absolute law of moral rec- 
titude ; that man is a sinner ; and that unknown but 
overwhelming evils are in store for him, which can be 
obviated only by repentance, or by some as yet undis- 
covered method of reconciliation, or possibly by both. 
Sentiments of this sort, too feeble and unsteady, it may 
be, in their action to form a safe guide to life, neverthe- 
less sufficiently developed to become the foundation of 
a religious structure of some kind, are common to all 
minds. Hence no considerable body of people ever 
passed under the eye of historian or traveller, among 
whom some form of religion, or, at least, some rite of 
superstition indicative of the germs of an original, 
religious faith, could not be traced. In these convic- 
tions, as their common basis, all kinds of religion, how- 
ever diversified in their forms or truthfulness, take their 
rise. Even the most corrupt forms of Paganism indicate 
the idea of Divinity, of moral law, of accountableness, 
of personal sinfulness, of the necessity of appeasing the 
superior power to which they are subject, as pervading 
the minds of those who worship after these forms. And 
it is noticeable that the great teacher, on the deeply 
interesting occasion before us, makes his first appeal to 
these original convictions of the human mind, as intrin- 
sically subservient to that spiritual state into which he 
would re-form the soul of man. Although he brought 
with him a special, divine message from above, " full 
of grace and truth,"* yet he forbore to divulge it, until 
he had first pressed upon those springs of moral sensi- 
bility which his own creative hand had concealed in the 
human bosom. To the ingenuous and earnest inquirer 
who had sought him out at even-tide, when the crowd 

14 



158 THE DIVINE METHOD FOR 

had retired, and the master was left alone, he discourses 
first of all, and in one sense as the most important of all, 
on things that are " earthly." Instead of answering the 
inquiry concerning the " heavenly," or even unfolding to 
him the specific end for which he came into the world, 
however important the announcement of that end in the 
sequel might be, he directs the listener to the oracle 
within his own bosom. He bids him explore the hand- 
writing on the tablet of his own soul, the deep and legi- 
ble prints there visible of the desolating power and ma- 
lignity of sin. He cites the secret records of his own 
heart in evidence of a life misspent ; of high and noble 
gifts perverted, of a divine light uncherished or extin- 
guished ; of a heaven-born soul, and born to return to its 
native seats, despoiled and reduced to ignoble bondage ; 
he points him to those soul-yearnings for a higher good 
which have been denied, to those pangs of remorse and 
those fearful lookings for of judgment which he has in 
vain attempted to appease or stifle ; and then he causes 
the truth to peal on his ear, and to reverberate again and 
again, — " Ye must be born again," " Ye must be born 
again ! " Thus does Christ teach us to seek the first 
principles of religious truth within the mind itself, and by 
his own example instructs the master of Israel to invoke 
the aid of man's native convictions in guiding his feet 
into the way of peace. 

II. Christian knowledge, for the soul of man is not 
only progressive, but follows the law of growth, as 
exemplified throughout the realms of life. Here, as 
in other fields of thought and inquiry, truth comes to 
, make glad the weary and suppliant spirit ; it comes, 
when bidden and sought for, in slow and measured steps, 
not in the fitful outbursts of the volcano, or in the ex- 
hausting fulness of a shower upon the new-mown grass. 



CONDUCTING RELIGIOUS INQUIRY. 159 

The human mind itself, from the necessity of its own 
law, is subject to a gradual process of development and 
growth. It is ushered into being with a mere capability 
of intelligence and action ; destitute of thought or senti- 
ment, barren of experience, and ignorant alike of its 
future acquisitions and of the vast and diversified pow- 
ers which it is destined to exert. Long and arduous are 
its struggles to acquire the use even of the instruments 
by which knowledge is to be obtained. How slow is 
its progress in mastering even the rudiments of any 
science or art ! How toilsome its ascent from first prin- 
ciples towards that high and glorious eminence where 
faith and philosophy find their reconcilement, and repose 
at the centre of all science and knowledge, even in the 
mystery of godliness, the " God manifest in the flesh, 
believed on in the world, received up into glory ! " But 
the mind is subject to the same conditions in its pur- 
suit after Christian knowledge as after secular; and the 
same outward obstructions, and still greater intrinsic 
infirmities impede its progress. Here, as elsewhere, we 
begin with things the most simple ; things that pertain 
to ourselves, and come within the scope of our own 
consciousness. Our first lessons comprise things that 
are " earthly;" and from these we ascend to things that 
are " heavenly." 

Moreover, the progress of the soul in divine knowl- 
edge, according to the method indicated in the text, is 
by a vital process of growth and development, rather 
than by a mere accretion from without. The spiritual, 
if we rightly interpret the teachings of the word, — the 
spiritual, no less than the animal, is an economy of life, 
endued with its vital force and organic law, and capable 
of assimilating whatever is kindred to its own essence. 
Truth, which is absolute to the Infinite, may be condi- 



160 THE DIVINE METHOD FOR 

tional as it comes to the finite ; and the mind that 
beholds it may itself supply the conditions. Certain it 
is, that nothing is truth to us which cannot be compre- 
hended under the type of our own ideas. Certain it is, 
that the act of knowing is no less conditioned on mind 
and its organization than on the truth to be known. 
Truth is truth to us, and for us, only as it passes under 
the law of our own thoughts, and awakens into a con- 
scious state those forms of truth which have a potential 
existence in every mind. Development, then, enters into 
the idea of self-culture, yes, of Christian culture, and de- 
termines its limits. Knowledge is truly such, only when 
truth takes on a vital process in the mind ; then, by a 
law of the inner life, it becomes, like the food we eat, 
an integral part of our being, causing it to " grow up into 
him in all things, which is the head, even Christ." 

III. The higher and more recondite truths of religion 
can be apprehended, only as we begin with the more 
simple and obvious. " If I have told you earthly things, 
and ye believe not ; how shall ye believe if I tell you of 
heavenly things ? " The child is not expected to read 
who has not first learned his letters. The youth who 
has neglected his axioms and definitions, the fundamen- 
tal principles and starting point in all pure science, will 
strive in vain to comprehend those sublime conclusions 
which are obvious to one who began at the beginning, 
and was led forward from step to step in his ascending 
path. And we understand the great teacher of Christi- 
anity to lay down, in the text, the same axiom as the 
condition of all right progress in divine knowledge. He 
did not take the Pharisee who came to him for instruc- 
tion, and, while his eyes were yet sealed or his vision 
unpractised, lead him up to the heights of all knowledge, 
and bid him look out on the broad fields that lay beneath 



CONDUCTING RELIGIOUS INQUIRY. 161 

him and admire the glory of them. Like a skilful 
master, he begins with things " earthly," things that were 
near at hand, and which are not only certain but obvious, 
if anything can be so ; and plainly intimates to him, 
that until these are well understood, and have attained 
to a sure lodgement in the mind, it will be a vain 
attempt to raise it to the contemplation of the " heav- 
enly." As if he had said, " the principles of the divine 
doctrine which I teach, are to be found in your own 
soul ; they are, or they may and ought to be, truths of 
your own consciousness. I begin, not by directing the eye 
of my disciple to the heavens above, but inwardly, upon 
his own soul. I uncover the tablet of his inner being, 
the record of his own proper self, and inquire, first of all, 
what readest thou there ? Is it not there written, as 
with a pen of iron and the point of a diamond, ' The 
Lord of heaven and earth, the holy, wise, and good, is 
my maker and benefactor, and I am his dependent and 
accountable creature ! I have sinned against the Lord 
my God, disregarded his authority, and abused his love. 
A miserable offender am I, and there is no help in me ; I 
must be born again, or I cannot see the kingdom of God.' 

" Such is the method I employ to guide the inquirer 
into the way of peace. These are the first lessons which I 
bid my disciples learn, — lessons which are drawn neither 
from the heavens above nor from the depths beneath ; 
but ' which are nigh thee, in thy mouth and in thy 
heart.' These are the earthly, and they prepare the 
way for, and lead on to, the heavenly." 

The beginning then of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the 
Son of God, is to be found in our own bosoms. And if 
we learn not what is recorded here, how shall we under- 
stand that which came down from heaven, even the 

mystery of our redemption ? While ignorant of sin as 
u* 



162 THE DIVINE METHOD FOR 

an inborn principle of evil and the source of all our woe, 
how can we appreciate the love of God towards sinners, 
or the gift of his dear Son to be " the propitiation for our 
sins," or understand the doctrines of faith, pardon, recon- 
ciliation, adoption, peace with God, and everlasting life ? 
No one can be supposed to comprehend the remedy 
who has not first understood the power and the malig- 
nity of the disease. The sounds of country, home, and 
rest fall in all their sweet and subduing power only on 
the ear of the pilgrim, far removed from the objects of his 
love, and wearied and worn by the toils of the way. It 
is only as we feel the force and application of Christ's 
words, " verily, ye must be born again," that we can 
interpret the heavenly message, " God so loved the 
world that he gave his only begotten Son that whoso- 
ever believeth in him should not perish, but have ever- 
lasting life." 

IV. The true method for conducting religious in- 
quiry requires that divine truth become subjective and 
experimental. In its outward and objective state, truth 
fails to be an instrument of self-culture. Although 
arrayed in the most severe forms of science, or made 
attractive by all the decorations of art and elocution, yet, 
like organic matter, it subserves the ends of life only as 
it enters the vital processes, and becomes itself instinct 
with the life which descendeth from above. Truth is a 
matter of experience, that is, it is truth to us and for us, 
when the mind perceives its coincidences with the deter- 
minate laws of belief, and hears from its own depth a 
responsive voice, as of truth answering to truth. This 
state of mind characterizes every act of distinct intu- 
ition. Even abstract speculative knowledge is a con- 
sciousness, an experience that certain propositions 
are necessarily true ; true, because they satisfy the 



CONDUCTING RELIGIOUS INQUIRY. 163 

conditions of hum an belief, the end and consummation of 
all testimony and proof. Knowledge, then, is not a nega- 
tive state, the mere absence of denial ; but a positive, 
responsive, satisfied state, whatever may be the object of 
our knowledge. 

Now we say that, according to the divine method, 
no progress can be expected in the absence of this 
answering consciousness to the truth, this inward expe- 
rience of its adoption and power. It is not sufficient 
that I assent to the statement, that I am accountable, 
that I am a sinner, that I must be born again. Assent 
is not the knowledge required ; it does not necessarily 
lead to it. My assent must rise to a state of conscious- 
ness, to a full, urgent, and irrepressible conviction ; then 
will the soul recoil at its vileness ; I shall tremble at the 
wrath which hangs over me ; I shall groan in anguish 
of spirit, till the power of the highest overshadow me, 
and my heart receives the testimony that I am born of 
God. Here is inward experience, and here the conditions 
of progress in divine knowledge. Leaving the earthly, 
I can now ascend to the heavenly, and with joy draw 
water from the wells of salvation. I am now prepared to 
receive the higher, the life-giving, the soul-saving truth, 
" that as Moses lifted up the serpent iru the wilderness, 
so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whosoever be- 
lieveth in him should not perish, but have eternal life." 

Aim then, O inquirer, at experience ; strive, and cease 
not till you have drawn the full power of the divine 
doctrine into your heart, that you may go on from 
strength to strength in the knowledge of God and of his 
Son, whom to know is life eternal. 

From the subject before us we are led, — 

1. To infer the validity and legitimate scope of the 
a priori method as applied to theological inquiries. By 



164 THE DIVIXE METHOD FOR 

abjuring this method in theological investigations, we 
run the hazard of needlessly embarrassing such minds as 
are accustomed to admit its validity and accept its aid 
in all kindred fields of thought, while, on the other hand, 
it is certain that we shall confine knowledge within 
bounds too narrow for the necessities of our own minds. 
It is a misapprehension, we conceive, to suppose that a pri- 
ori knowledge is independent of experience ; or that it is 
not in an important sense controlled and limited by it. 
" By knowledge a priori," to use the language of another, 
" we do not mean that we can know anything previously 
to experience, which would be an absurdity ; but that 
having once known it by occasion of experience, that is, 
something acting upon us from without, we then know 
it must have pre-existed, or the experience itself would 
have been impossible. By experience only I know that 
I have eyes, but then my reason convinces me that I 
must have had eyes in order to the experience." l 

Matters of fact, the phenomenal of being, it is conce- 
ded, are all contained within the province of experience ; 
but truth, as underlying all phenomena and being, and 
constituting the ground on which the actual first be- 
came possible, is addressed to a higher intuition than 
what pertains t» the sensuous or immediate conscious- 
ness. All human knowledge, indeed takes its rise in, or 
rather is suggested by, phenomena, of which revelation 
is only an instance ; nevertheless, the forms of thinking 
which are essential to the mind predetermine all our 
conceptions of such phenomena, and impress their own 
outline on all which the mind receives or produces. By 
excluding from theology the method to which we have 
adverted, we reduce it to a mere aggregation and 

1 Coleridge, Aids to Reflection, Marsh's edition, p. 397 



CONDUCTING RELIGIOUS INQUIRY. 165 

arrangement of facts, and ignore its claims to the stabil- 
ity and grandeur of a science. What is science that is 
not founded in fixed, universal and intelligible principles ; 
and how are such principles evolved but by an organic 
power of mind, which though awakened by experience, 
nevertheless overleaps the limits of possible experience, 
the perception of the phenomenal, and calls around itself 
ideas of order, congruity, universality, and eternity ? An 
event may occur in a man's life, or a word may fall on 
his ear from above, and with the sensuous perception 
the work of experience may terminate. But where ex- 
perience ends, the process of a higher evolution may 
begin, and the idea of personality, of a responsible will, of 
a moral law, of a righteous judge, of guilt and vileness, 
and inexorable wrath, pass in solemn succession before 
him ; and these thoughts come not from without, nor 
from above, but from the depths within ; nay more, they 
bear the features of old acquaintanceship, the aspect of 
household things. Moreover, what is truth now is truth 
forever ; and what is truth to me, is, or should be, truth to 
another, and to all. This I know, not from experience, but 
from that which transcends experience, and enables me 
to see the all in one, the past and the future in the present. 
2. We are cautioned, in the light of our subject, not 
to disparage those aids to religious instruction and culture 
which are to be found in man's own bosom. To invoke 
the aid of reason, or to appeal to those sources of moral 
truth which are essential to a morally constituted being, 
is sometimes regarded as derogatory to revelation. The 
light of Scripture, it is conceived, becomes the more bril- 
liant, and its teachings the more authoritative, as we suc- 
ceed in extinguishing even the faint glimmerings that still 
linger in a fallen mind. But what is the main office of 
revelation, but first to call forth, and then to answer, the 



166 THE DIVINE METHOD FOR 

questionings of the spirit within ? what, but to warm into 
vitality the germs of truth in the soul, to give birth to 
convictions as yet but feebly struggling for utterance, or 
of which the soul is but potentially conscious. Man, 
though sadly fallen, is none the less a personality, reflect- 
ing dimly, and as if from a tarnished and marred surface, 
the lineaments of the divine image, with his moral organ- 
ism still entire, though diseased, enfeebled, and enslaved. 
There is still an oracle within which echoes to the oracle 
from above ; a light that flames forth responsive to the 
light of the word, — a voice of truth, still and small it 
may be, nevertheless to the ear of the soul distinct and 
awful in its utterances, which answers to the voice of 
the spirit. And were the soul of man less than this, or 
other than this, even in its most degraded state, it would 
be a thing and no man. Truth could not exist for it, 
nor it for the truth ; it would be a thing, not only with- 
out life, but incapable even of a resurrection. Thus did 
Paul the Apostle contemplate the capabilities of man, 
even when dead in trespasses and sins. He approached 
man as an inspired witness to man, not only of what 
God in his high sovereignty and grace had provided for 
him, but also of what was in man ; and he came believ- 
ing that man could apprehend and appreciate his testi- 
mony, and that the same would " commend itself to every 
man's conscience in the sight of God." Jesus, in like 
manner, communed with Nicodemus on " earthly things," 
and strove, as the first object of his mission, to awaken 
the power of self-reflection, and then to call up from the 
depth of the soul those in-born convictions, those insa- 
tiable yearnings, which could find their answering and 
sufficing counterpart only in "the heavenly." 

3. In imparting instruction to men, we are cautioned 
against confounding or inverting the order of divine 



CONDUCTING RELIGIOUS INQUIRY. 167 

things. All truths sustain a determinate and, for the 
most part, an obvious relation to each other. There is 
order and sequence among them, at least, as they lie in the 
mind of the all-comprehending God — a beginning, middle, 
and end. This order and inter-dependence our Divine 
teacher recognized, in that he distinguished the earthly 
from the heavenly. And, moreover, he manifested his 
intention to conform to this method in his instructions 
to inquiring souls, in that he declined proceeding to the 
heavenly, or higher truths, till those that were nearer 
home, and of the first concern, had been received. Like 
a wise and skilful master, he begins not with the last 
results, but with the first principles : he lays bare the 
foundation rock, and then builds thereupon. In the 
bosoms of men he discovers a guiding and a needful 
light, and though it shines feebly and in a dark place, he 
pours oil upon it and cherishes it ; and then directs the 
inquirer to look steadfastly upon it, till his eye becomes 
single, and his whole body is full of light. He shows 
him the deep and deadly malady of his soul, as the 
only condition of making him understand the remedy 
provided, and as the only effective means of persuading 
him to apply to the great Physician. And what was 
wise in the example of Jesus, as a teacher, cannot be 
folly in those to whom the mode of reconciliation is 
committed. If the true method is to begin with the 
earthly to illustrate the doctrine of sin, and that the sin- 
ner " must be born again," let us take heed, and nox 
turn all things into confusion, and insure defeat to our 
purpose by inverting the true order and beginning at the 
heavenly. 

4. We discover one reason, and perhaps the chief 
one, why the higher and less obvious truths of religion 
are so often rejected. It is similar to that which pre- 
vents the higher conclusions of natural science from 



168 THE DIVINE METHOD FOR 

being received by the pupil who has not been led for- 
ward by regular and successive steps till he has arrived 
at those conclusions. These results, though they may 
stand in the class of necessary and eternal truths, are 
regarded by the unpractised mind either as unintelligible 
or palpably absurd. So we hear men of intelligence 
cavilling at the truths of religion, for no other reason 
but that they have not been led by a subjective, experi- 
mental method, along the path which guides the mind 
to a right apprehension of the things of God. The doc- 
trine of an atonement, of predestination, of sovereign 
efficacious grace, of an Almighty Redeemer, of the 
future endless punishment of the wicked, and such like, 
are repelled from many a bosom, for the simple reason, 
perhaps, that they began their inquiries at the wrong 
place. Had they sought for the fountains of religious 
truth and sentiment in their own bosoms, where Jesus 
taught Nicodemus to find them, and taken for their first 
lesson the free and accountable nature of man ; and, 
next, his sinfulness, deep, deadly, and uncontrolled, as 
their consciousness might have revealed it to them ; and, 
lastly, had they listened to the testimony which the soul, 
in all its misgivings, and terrors, and yearnings, gives to 
the truth, " ye must be born again," think you they 
would have found much difficulty in regard to the truths 
which lie beyond? Just apprehensions of sin, as a 
native, malignant element in the moral nature of man, 
whose only adequate remedy is found in the prescrip- 
tion, " ye must be born again," prepares the mind for all 
the subsequent teachings of the Word and Spirit of 
God. Under the power of such apprehensions, it will 
recognize the justice of God in the final destruction of the 
impenitent ; the propriety and necessity of imputation 
and an atonement as the condition of pardon and justi- 
fication ; the agency of electing love and efficacious grace 



CONDUCTING RELIGIOUS INQUIRY. 160 

in " delivering the soul out of darkness into the kingdom 
of God's dear Son." It is because the mind is not 
intelligently grounded in first principles, that the great 
and prevailing errors on these points take their rise. 
And hence the common, if not uniform occurrence, as 
in the case of Saul of Tarsus, that, when the command- 
ment is brought home, and sin in its true malignity and 
desert revived in the consciousness of the soul, these er- 
rors are found to give place to " the truth as it is in Jesus." 

5. We infer the inexcusableness of those who reject 
those first principles of religion, on the admission of 
which a new and divine life is conditioned. These 
principles are what our Saviour denominates " earthly 
things ; " they are neither derived from heaven above, 
nor from the depths beneath ; they are nigh thee, O man, 
in thy mouth, and in thy heart. Hence, when our Lord 
would lead Nicodemus into the possession and enjoy- 
ment of the new life of God, he begins with an appeal 
to those truths which lie in every man's bosom, and 
which need only the aid of serious self-reflection to bring 
them forth into full and fearful consciousness. " Ye 
must be born again," was the truth which needed to be 
revived in the mind, as the condition of attaining to that 
life of God which is everlasting. Nothing could be 
done till this sentiment had a conscious place in the 
soul. While this was absent, or hidden from the eye 
of the mind, no progress could be expected towards the 
comprehension of higher truths. " If I have told you 
earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe 
if I tell you of heavenly things ? " 

And if the first principles of religion, those without 
which all others are unavailing to salvation, are to be 
found in man's own bosom ; and if here, in our own 
souls, powers may be awakened, which, under those aids 

15 



170 THE DIVINE METHOD FOR 

which the Holy Spirit is most ready to supply, will lead 
on, step by step, to peace with God and everlasting life, 
then, what excuse will remain for him who lives and 
dies in ignorance and sin ? Wilt thou say, fellow man, 
" I had no Bible to guide me ? " the answer will be, 
" You needed none in order to begin the work where- 
unto you were called." Will it be your apology, " that 
you could not apprehend the things of the Spirit of 
God ? " the reply will come back, " It was only the 
things of the spirit of man you were required to appre- 
hend." Will you plead the impossibility of reconciling 
Scripture with reason, or even with itself?" it will be 
retorted upon you, " You were not required to do either ; 
but simply to reconcile yourself to God." Your present 
duties, O man, all lie within a very narrow compass : 
" they are in thy mouth, and in thy heart." You are to 
commune with yourself seriously and earnestly, as Jesus 
instructed the anxious sinner before him to do, and light 
will speedily dawn upon your mind. Sin will revive, 
and the conviction fasten on your soul, that " you must 
be born again." Here is the point where you will need, 
and where you will crave a higher guidance. Here 
you will be taught to look to Him who was lifted up 
on the cross, that whosoever believeth in him should not 
perish, but have eternal life. What excuse, then, we 
ask again, will remain for the sinner who neglects even 
to explore the records of his own soul, and wilfully or 
carelessly declines the first step that leads to salvation ? 
Truly has our Lord Jesus testified, " This is the condem- 
nation, that light is come into the world, and men loved 
darkness rather than light, because their deeds were 
evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, 
neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be 
reproved." 



CONDUCTING RELIGIOUS INQUIRY. 171 

Lastly. The source is indicated whence is to come 
the revival and augmentation of that spiritual power of 
the pulpit over the public mind, with which the con- 
tinued progress and final triumph of the church are 
intimately connected. Culture of a more liberal scope, 
and of a more uniform diffusion, in no previous age 
adorned the Christian pulpit. Never were the altars of 
the church throughout Christendom loaded with such 
wealth of learning and scholarship, or served by such 
cultivated taste and artistic power, as at present. And 
to this, doubtless, have our public schools of theology — 
aided, as we are inclined to think, by the riper and more 
generous discipline attainable in the schools below — 
essentially contributed. Nevertheless, T fear it must be 
conceded that the mind of Christendom shows far less 
signs of subjection to the control and influence of the 
pulpit than at almost any former period. Other instruct- 
ors and guides to the people have risen up ; and, more- 
over, the people themselves have attained to far more 
enlightenment and generous culture, and, indeed, have 
passed the line beyond which none but strong and prac- 
tised minds, and men of resolute wills, can claim to lead 
them. The spiritual and secular powers never before met 
in conflict on so high an arena; and never were the 
tendencies of an age to good or evil so likely to be 
determined, so far as human agency is to be regarded, 
by the mere force and dexterity of mind. Tradition, 
authority, custom, prescription, notions, which once con- 
trolled the faith and exacted the homage of men, are 
become effete; and the question of questions, "Whether 
the vital, everlasting truths of the Spirit of God, or the 
idols of the understanding, shall hold the world in obe- 
dience, is henceforth to be tried on its own intrinsic 
grounds. Mind, then, earnest, resolute, comprehensive, 



172 DIVINE METHOD FOR CONDUCTING RELIGIOUS INQUIRY. 

practised mind, made powerful by its own deep and 
unfaltering convictions and the unction of that Word 
which cometh from above, is what the pulpit of this age 
and of future ages imperiously demands. Mind, like 
the body, is strengthened for the battle by that which 
it feeds on, — the deep things of God and man, which 
the spirit only can understand and interpret, — the mys- 
teries of the soul, the mysteries of the kingdom of God. 
There must be deeper communings of the soul with 
itself, and more earnest listenings at the oracles of God ; 
the life-giving and soul-awakening truths, which are to 
reclaim a lost world to God, must become in the preach- 
er's own heart " the spirit and the power," before the 
pulpit will assert its high and true place among the 
guiding influences of earth. Until the preacher becomes 
the interpreter of the soul, as well as of the Word, and 
can commend himself to the conscience of every man, 
by testifying to what he himself feels within, the Word 
spoken will fail to become the wisdom and power of 
God unto salvation. And when mind comes into con- 
flict with mind, the secular with the spiritual, enticed 
forward, on the one hand, by the notions and expedients 
and interests which things temporal suggest, and, on the 
other, stirred to its utmost depths of earnestness, and 
girt to its full strength by all that is grand and awful in 
the manifestation of things unseen and eternal, who can 
doubt on which side, the grace of God cooperating, the 
victory will incline ? May all, then, who minister before 
the altar, be touched with the live coal that glows there- 
upon. May those present who have long borne the heat 
and toil of the ministry, and those who are now girding 
the harness to their loins, give the most earnest heed to 
the injunction of the aged apostle: " Meditate on these 
things ; give thyself wholly to them, that thy profiting 
may appear to all." 



SERMON IT. 



MORAL GOVERNMENT OE THE WORLD. 



"THE "WORD OF THE LORD CAME UNTO ME AGAIN, SAYING: WHAT MEAN TE, 
THAT TE USE THIS PROVERB CONCERNING THE LAND OE ISRAEL; SAYING, 
THE FATHERS HAVE EATEN SOUR GRAPES, AND THE CHILDREN'S TEETH 
ARE SET ON EDGE? AS I LIVE, SAITH THE LORD, YE SHALL NOT HAVE 
OCCASION ANY MORE TO USE THIS PROVERB IN ISRAEL. BEHOLD, ALL 
SOULS ARE MINE; AS THE SOUL OF THE FATHER, SO ALSO THE SOUL OF 
THE SON IS MINE: THE SOUL THAT SINNETH, IT SHALL DIE." — Ezeldel 

xviii. 1 — 4. 

The Prophet Ezekiel was among the captives in Baby- 
lon, and his writings, whether prophetic or admonitory, 
were composed while in this state of exile. And here it 
is to be noticed, that while the scourges of the Almighty 
were laid upon his covenant people in consequence of 
their apostasy, they were not wholly deprived of their 
religious privileges. Although banished from the house 
of the Lord, and doomed to sojourn for a season, as cap- 
tives in a strange and heathen land, they were still per- 
mitted to behold the face of their teachers, and listen to 
their instructions. Some of the most eminent and 
favored prophets of the Lord — such as Daniel, and Eze- 
kiel, together with other holy and gifted men, accom- 
panied their brethren in their exile, to instruct them and 
their children in the right ways of the Lord, and to con- 
dole with them in their abject and miserable state. And 
it would seem that God so ordered it in his providence, 

15* 



174 MOEAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 

that these his servants should not be hindered in their 
work. After a short season, in which they were persecuted 
by their captors, the Jews seem to have enjoyed a state 
of religious freedom. They were permitted to worship 
their own Glod, and to be instructed and edified by their 
prophets. And, under the teachings of those men of God, 
they seem, in a good measure, to have been preserved 
from the temptations that beset them in a pagan land, 
nay more, to have been thoroughly reclaimed from the 
idolatry into which the mass of the people had sunk 
before the captivity, and even to have enjoyed a season 
of prosperity. Certainly, the captivity in a moral point 
of view, was to them a national blessing. They re- 
turned to their own land with a character far superior 
to that with which they left the country. They were a 
chastened and reformed people, — weaned from their 
idols, humbled for their sins, acquiescing in the severe 
chastisements they had received, and even cherishing 
kind and conciliatory feelings towards those who had 
oppressed them. Such were the fruits of those covenant 
corrections which they had borne, combined with the 
faithful admonitions and comforting assurances which 
they had all along received from their spiritual guides. 

The chapter before us discloses the condition of the 
people when first overtaken by the judgment of God. 
It shows us a people exasperated and embittered under 
the calamities visited upon them ; with their moral prin- 
ciples perverted, and their hearts hardened into great 
boldness and obduracy against God, who remonstrated 
with them by the Prophets, who faithfully, re minded them 
of their sins, and affectionately exhorted them to repent- 
ance as the only means of arresting his wrath, and bring- 
ing their sufferings to a close. They seem to have been 
excited into rage, and boldly attempted to excuse them- 



MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 175 

selves, and to arraign the justice of God. " God," said 
they, "is punishing us for the sins of others." The pro- 
verb was in every man's mouth : " The fathers have eaten 
sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge." This 
sentiment which they had imbibed, had a two-fold influ- 
ence, — it fortified them against repentance for their past 
sins, and hindered a reformation from the sins in which 
they were continuing to indulge. When the prophets 
assured them that their present sufferings were the just 
fruits of their apostasy from God, they said, "No; they 
are the consequences of the sins committed by our 
fathers." When warned by the prophets that still sorer 
judgments were in store for them, if they continued in 
disobedience and impenitence, they answered, " Our 
children must suffer the punishment of our sins, as we 
suffer the punishment due to the sins of our fathers." 
Thus did God receive fresh insults from the people whom 
he had been compelled to chastise, and thus were the 
exertions of his prophets to bring them to repentance 
baffled and rendered unavailing. 

To silence these unreasonable and wicked gainsayings 
of his people, God sent forth his prophet Ezekiel with -a 
special message, in which he exposes the falsehood and 
blasphemy of the people, and vindicates the equity of his 
dealings with them, and with all his creatures. And as 
it is natural for unhumbled man, in all ages of the world, 
to arraign the justice of God in the government of his 
creatures, and especially as it is not uncommon to hear 
sinners at this day repeat the old proverb of the Jews, in 
the way of excusing themselves and accusing God, it may 
be useful for us to examine the issue here formed between 
God and his people, and the principles which do now 
and ever guide him in the government of the world. 

I-. Let us consider the charge alleged against God, — 



176 MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 

the principles imputed to him by the Jews in his govern- 
ment of his creatures. " What mean ye," asks God, 
" that ye use this proverb concerning the land of Israel ; 
saying, the fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the chil- 
dren's teeth are set on edge ? " The question was not 
asked because any one was in doubt, or could be in doubt? 
in regard to the import of the proverb. But the Jews 
are interrogated because God would in this way both 
deny the truth of this proverb, and also reprove them for 
the impious purposes for which they used it. The senti- 
ment which they were understood to utter, and which 
they intended to utter, by this proverbial expression was, 
that God punishes the innocent in place ot the guilty ; 
that children, being innocent, expiate in their own suffer- 
ings the crimes and sins of their fathers. Hence, if their 
prophets, when laboring to bring them to repentance, 
reminded them that all those calamities which had 
been visited upon them were the just judgment of God 
in view of their sins, and, of course, were the evi- 
dence of their sinfulness, they took shelter from the 
reproof under this proverb : " God," said they, " does 
not punish the guilty for their own sins, but the innocent 
for the sins which others have committed. What we 
suffer is evidence, indeed, that our fathers have sinned, 
and that we are their children ; it is proof of our misera- 
ble state under the divine government, but no evidence 
that we are personally guilty." Such were the strange 
and impious doctrines that were defended by the Jews, 
who, after a long season of forbearance on the part of 
God, — a season filled up by unavailing admonition 
entreaty and warning, — were at last overtaken and 
crushed by the pressure of his wrath. 

This sentiment, so absurd and blasphemous, seems to 
have been entertained and boldly advocated, not by a few 



MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 177 

extravagant and reckless leaders only, but by the mass of 
the people ; and the whole of this chapter, and other por- 
tions of the book, are employed in debating this point 
between God and his unreasonable people. God vindi- 
cates himself from the allegation both by argument and 
by oath; averring by his great name that what they 
assert is without truth, and appealing to all his works in 
proof of its falsehood. Still, they returned to the charge, 
saying, " Why shall a man die for the iniquity which he 
himself doeth ? Doth not the son bear the iniquity of his 
father ? " Do you ask whence could the Jews derive a 
sentiment which reflects so great dishonor upon the char- 
acter of God ? We must answer, from the same fruitful 
source whence originate all the absurd doctrines, the 
impious and damnable errors, that now abound in the 
world, — the deep fountains of their own corrupt hearts. 
But may not a sentiment nearly akin to this, it may be 
asked again, be derived from the Word of God itself? 
It has been suggested by some that this proverb, with 
slight alteration, is to be found among the proverbs of 
Solomon (Proverbs x. 26) : " As vinegar is to the teeth, 
and as smoke is to the eyes, so is iniquity to them that 
practise it." But surely the sentiment here taught is 
widely different from that conveyed by the proverb in our 
text. Solomon says that iniquity shall be to them that 
practise it, what vinegar is to the teeth ; in other words, 
the punishment of sin shall be upon the sinner himself, 
and not upon some one else. Again, we are referred to 
the second commandment in the decalogue as containing 
the sentiment advocated by the Jews : " For I the Lord 
am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers 
upon the children, unto the third and fourth generation 
of them that hate me, and showing mercy unto thou- 
sands of them that love me and keep my command- 



178 MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 

ments." But, I would ask, is the principle which the 
Jews asserted influenced God in the government of his 
creatures to be found in this passage ? Does God here 
enforce the prohibition of idolatry on the ground that our 
children, being innocent, shall bear the penalty of this our 
sin, even to the fourth generation ? Does it not expressly 
promise that mercy, even to a thousand generations, shall 
be shown unto those who love God and keep his com- 
mandments, irrespective of the good or evil done by their 
parents ? 

Men may, indeed, participate, and justly participate, in 
the punishment deserved by their fathers, but it is because 
they participate in the sins of their fathers. The children 
of idolatrous fathers bear the punishment of their 
fathers, that' is, a punishment like that of their fathers, 
because they too are, like their fathers, in idolatry. The 
curse of God goes down to the after generations of them 
that hate him, because these generations imbibe and 
cherish the same hatred of God which their fathers cher- 
ished before them. They bear the iniquity of their 
fathers in punishment, because they bear it in act and 
perpetration. In other words, they are punished in their 
own persons for their own sins, as their parents, whose 
example they have copied, are punished in their own 
persons for their personal sins. And what is there in 
this principle which reflects on the justice of God, or 
that gives the least countenance to the impious senti- 
ment of the Jews, that children, being themselves 
innocent, are punished for the sins of their fathers ? 

II. Let us inquire into the true principle by which 
God is influenced in the government of his creatures 5 
and on which he places his defence against all accusa- 
tions. And here you will notice the indignation and 
abhorrence with which God regards the sentiment im- 



MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 179 

puted to him by his people. "What mean ye, that ye 
use this proverb ? Have you the hardihood to attempt 
the defence of a position so utterly false ? Are you so 
lost to shame, as to utter such a blasphemy against 
your Creator ? Having expressed his astonishment at 
the audacity of his calumniators, the most High pro- 
ceeds : " As I live, saith the Lord, ye shall not have 
occasion any more to use this proverb in Israel." This 
language is not to be interpreted into an admission that 
there ever had been just occasion for the use of the 
proverb. It rather expresses God's determination effec- 
tually to silence his enemies on this point. If doubt 
and obscurity had rested on it hitherto, he would now 
remove all uncertainty from their minds, and set forth 
the truth and honor of his government in a light that 
would admit of no mistake. He does not propose any 
change in the principles which he has hitherto observed 
in his dealings with men, but to assert and vindicate 
those which he has always regarded, and would forever 
regard. No change was introduced at this time, in the 
principles of God's providential government ; he con- 
tinued to deal with his people just as he had ever dealt 
with them ; so that if there ever had been just occasion 
to use this proverb cited in the text, that occasion con- 
tinued and still existed. But if the absence of a clear 
demonstration on this point gave occasion for the 
proverb, that occasion should exist no longer. " Behold," 
he continues, " all souls are mine ; as the soul of the 
father, so also the soul of the son is mine : the soul that 
sinneth it shall die." These words exhibit the principles 
by which the divine government is directed, and show 
that it has its foundations in the most perfect justice 
and equity. God does not say, simply, what shall be, 
as if something new were now to be introduced ; but 



180 MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 

he declares what is, and ever has been, the method of 
his dealings with men. This is evident from the fact, 
that he not only declares (to use the language of the 
courts) what the law is, but the reasons of the law. If 
then, a new law or principle was here to be introduced, 
it must be for the reason that some new relation has 
come into being between him and his people. But if 
no relation existed now save what had always existed, 
then the law and the principle growing out of that 
relation were not new, but had existed from the time in 
which that relation began. And what were the reasons 
of the law here laid down ? Why does God say that no 
man, being innocent, shall die for the sin's of another, 
that each one shall suffer for his own sins ? The rea- 
son asserted is, that " all souls are mine ; as the soul of 
the father, so also the soul of the son is mine." 

And was not the doctrine as true in any previous age 
of the world, as it was in the days of Ezekiel ? Is it 
not as true in regard to every portion of mankind as it is 
of the Jews ? If then it is just and proper now that the 
soul that sinneth should die, because every soul is God's, 
then hath it always been just and proper that only such 
should die, because from the beginning God could say 
with as much truth as now " all souls are mine ; as the 
soul of the fathers, so also the soul of the son is mine." 
I have the same power over the one as over the other ; 
one is as dear to me as the other. There is no neces- 
sity that I should let the father escape, and wreak the 
vengeance due to his sins upon his tender children ; the 
first is as entirely within my power as is the last. And 
as there is no necessity to compel, so there is no parti- 
ality to bias. The children hold as high a place in my 
heart as do their parents. Being innocent, I would 
sooner touch the apple of my eye^ than touch them. To 






MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 181 

punish the children for the sins of the parents, would be 
no less repugnant to my nature than to punish parents, 
being innocent, for the sins of their children. " The 
soul that sinneth, it shall die." This is the principle that 
shall henceforth govern me, because it has hitherto 
governed me, in all my dealings with men. All souls 
are mine ; and therefore the sinner, and the sinner only, 
shall bear the punishment of his sins. 

This was the principle which Abraham, the friend of 
God, recognized in the divine government in his time. 
Standing near unto the Lord in the plain of Mamre, an 
earnest suppliant for the devoted cities of the plain, he 
says : " Wilt thou also destroy the righteous with the 
wicked ? " The very question seems to his jealous 
heart, to savor of blasphemy, and he adds : " That be 
far from thee, that the righteous should be as the wicked. 
Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ? " 

And the same essential principles of the divine gov- 
ernment which Abraham recognized in his day, and 
which inspired him with confidence in God and submis- 
sion to his will, are reasserted in the chapter before us, 
that the impiety of wicked men maybe put to silence. 
" If a man be just and do that which is lawful and 
right, if he hath walked in my statutes and hath kept my 
judgments to deal truly, he shall surely live, saith the 
Lord God." Again, " if the just man shall beget a son who 
is a robber, or shedder of blood, and that doeth the like 
to any one of these things, shall he then live? He shall not 
live ; he hath done all these abominations, he shall surely 
die ; his blood shall be upon him. Now, lo, if this last 
shall beget a son that seeth all his fathers sins which he 
has done, and considereth and doeth not such like, but 
executeth my judgments and walketh in my statutes ; he 
shall not die for the iniquities of his father ; he shall 

16 



182 MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 

surely live. As for his father, lo, he shall die in his 
iniquity; — the soul that sinneth, it shall die. The son 
shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall 
the father bear the iniquity of the son ; the righteous- 
ness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wicked- 
ness of the wicked shall be upon him." Such is the 
exposition which God gives of his government; yet, 
alas, it fails to satisfy unreasonable and wicked men. 
They still find fault with the Most High, and blaspheme. 
" Yet, saith the house of Israel, the way of the Lord is 
not equal. O house of Israel, are not my ways equal ? 
Are not your ways unequal ? Therefore will I judge 
you, O house of Israel, every one according to his ways, 
saith the Lord God. Repent and turn yourselves from 
all your transgressions ; so iniquity shall not be your 
ruin." 

From the preceding discussion, several inferences 
and reflections are suggested. 

I. The government which God has instituted over 
man is a moral government. And by moral govern- 
ment we mean, that which is suited to beings capable of 
moral actions, which is conducted on moral principles, 
and is subservient to moral ends. Moral government is 
sometimes denned to be a government of motives ; but 
what government over man is not a government of 
motives ? And how, then, will this definition distin- 
guish the divine from human governments, all of which 
are sustained by the influence of motives ? No govern- 
ment over free agents, of course, can be sustained with- 
out an appeal to motives ; and in this respect all gov- 
ernments are alike. But the government of God differs 
from all others, in the fact that it is conducted on moral 
principles, and seeks a moral end ; while human govern- 
ments proceed, to a great extent, on the principle of 
expediency, and with a view to a political end. A 



MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 183 

moral government implies that its subjects are capable 
of moral action, — that they are beings free to choose 
their own course of action, and are responsible for the 
choice they make. Again, it implies a law of right, not 
of expediency, for the rule of life ; a law unchangeable 
in its precepts, that is the same to all men, and that 
may be known to all. It implies, moreover, an end to 
be secured, corresponding with the spirit of its precepts, 
and altogether sufficient in magnitude to authorize the 
high and fearful sanctions, by which the law is guarded. 
And, finally, a moral government implies an almighty, 
all-wise, and just being to preside over it ; a being, of 
whose own character the law itself is but a copy ; who 
possesses unlimited and underived authority, and who is 
the rightful judge of all souls, because all souls are his. 

This is the government under which man finds him- 
self placed at the moment of his creation. It is not a 
condition of his own choice in which he finds himself, 
but it is the necessary condition that belongs to man. 
We no more choose to be the subjects of God's govern- 
ment than we choose to be created human. We can 
cease to be the subjects of this government only by 
ceasing to be human. Under this government the whole 
universe of rational beings stand in one common lot. 
We have the same rule to guide us ; the same responsi- 
bilities to bear, each for himself; the same hopes to 
cheer us in the paths of holiness and virtue ; the same 
penalties to deter from vice and sin ; the same freedom 
of choice to determine our destiny for eternity. Under 
this government we are subjected to an uncompromising 
and most searching rule ; for the law is holy, and the 
commandment holy and just and good ; it searcheth 
even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and is a 
discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. He 
who applies the rule, and to whom both the reward and 



184 MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 

the vengance belongs, is himself everywhere present to 
see all, and to know all that we do. With him darkness 
and night are both alike ; his thoughts search the heart 
and try the reins of the children of men. And what 
anxious thoughts does this truth awaken in the mind ! 
How solemn, how awful the condition in which we 
all exist ! "Who can survey it in all its length and 
breadth, and not be overwhelmed ! Surely the thought- 
ful man w T ill resolve " to walk softly before the Lord all 
the days of his life," remembering the gracious words of 
his lawgiver and judge, " to this man will I look, even 
to him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit, and that 
trembleth at my word." 

II. If the government of God is a moral government, 
we may rest assured that no injustice will befall its sub- 
jects. Human governments may so exercise the power 
entrusted to them as to pervert justice, and to inflict 
grievous wrongs ; and this will happen, because such 
governments are constructed on principles of expediency, 
and are administered always by fallible, and oftentimes 
short-sighted, men. 

But a strictly moral government is necessarily a per- 
fect government ; — perfect, both as it regards the rule 
which it enforces, and as regards* the being who admin- 
isters it. It is a government founded in moral equity, 
and limited by it. The law is holy, just, and good in 
all its precepts and prohibitions. Where obedience 
would cease to be holy, just, and good, there a moral 
government must terminate. 

The moral law is founded in right, and is, of necessity, 
limited by it. And what is a moral government but 
the administration of the moral law? It enforces the 
whole law, and nothing but the law. If anything is 
exacted of the subject aside from the law, or above 



MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 185 

the law, that ceases to be the exaction of a moral 
government. 

Again, we have said that not only the law, but the 
administration, must be perfect. A moral government 
must have its source somewhere. It cannot proceed 
from its subjects, for its subjects were all created under 
it, and therefore could have no agency or choice in 
originating it. The conclusion, then, is unavoidable, 
that the moral law must be traced up to the divine mind 
as its proper source. From that uncreated origin it 
derives all its authority, and all its sanctions. And can 
that which is perfect in its very nature and essence be 
derived from an imperfect source ? Can that which is 
universal, unlimited, and without change originate but 
in him, who is the uncreated and the uncontrolled, — 
of purer eyes than to behold sin, — a God of truth and 
without iniquity, — righteous in all his ways, and holy 
in all his works ? No injustice or wrong, then, we may 
be assured, can be perpetrated by a moral government. 
The object of that government is to prevent injustice. 
It is instituted to be " a terror to evil-doers, and a praise 
to them that do well." It receives all its subjects under 
its divine protection ; it arrays the power and wrath of the 
Almighty against all who would wrong or oppress us ; 
it holds forth the most ample and certain rewards to 
them that do well ; it utters indignation and wrath only 
to them that do evil. It involves no one, being inno- 
cent, unless as incident to our present social condition, 
in the penal plagues that are visited upon transgressors. 

Much less does it condemn the innocent in the place 
of the guilty. " Shall not the Judge of all the earth do 
right ? " may be the confiding declaration of all the 
sons of men. " Behold all souls are mine ; as the soul 
of the father, so also the soul of the son is mine ; the soul 
that sinneth, it shall die." 



186 MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 

III. If the government of God is a moral government, 
then transgressors may expect no mercy from it. The 
government of man is, to a great extent, a government 
of expedients. It is a yielding and flexible instrument, 
wearing, now the aspect of severity, and again of clem- 
ency ; at one time punishing the guilty, and at another 
bidding them go in peace, and sin no more. But the 
government of God admits of no expedients. It looks 
only to the right ; it deals only in judgments. Strictly 
speaking, mercy has no place in the government of God ; 
it is throughout an instrument of justice. Its language 
is " he that is just shall surely live," " but the soul that 
sinneth it shall die." 

The utterly hopeless condition of the sinner, then, 
viewed as a subject of the law, opens at once upon our 
minds. He stands at the tribunal of justice condemned ; 
and whatever may be the penalty which he has incurred, 
the same must he expect to suffer. " The soul that sin- 
neth, it shall die." The moral law is the mere instru- 
ment of justice, seeking to establish its empire among 
the creatures of God. The means of attaining its end 
are summary and uniform. Justice holds up the holy 
law of God in the sight of the universe, and says, " obey 
this law and live ; disobey and die." She stands alone 
in the administration of the law. Mercy is not permit- 
ted to divide authority with her, or to reverse or modify 
one of her decisions ! 

What consolation, then, is offered to the soul that has 
sinned ? Does he say, I regret my folly, and deplore my 
sins against God ? Be it so ; but how will this confes- 
sion avail him ? Does the law contain the word repent- 
ance ? Does it name any condition on which his 
sentence may be reversed, and the offender released ? 

Does the sinner reform and promise to sin no more ? 
Be it so ; but of what avail is all this to him, as the 



MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 187 

subject of a broken law ? He has sinned ; and " the 
soul that sinneth, it shall die." 

And what the condition of the sinner is, the same is 
the condition of all men viewed in their relation to the 
law. For " all have sinned, and come short of the glory 
of God ; " and hence, all are by nature (regarded as the 
subjects of the law) the children of wrath. The law 
w T hich was ordained unto life is now found to be unto 
death. By the deeds of the law, yea, by means of the 
law, shall no flesh living be justified. Forlorn, then, is 
the hope which any of the sons of men repose in the 
law of God. To seek in it a refuge for our souls, is to 
fly for shelter to the devouring fire, to the everlasting 
burnings. 

IV. We see the absolute necessity of another method 
of saving men, than the one revealed in the law. 
There must be a way provided by which God can 
justify those who have sinned, or there is no possible 
relief for the children of men. The law offers life and 
salvation to the just ; but it proclaims indignation and 
wrath, tribulation and anguish, on every soul that doeth 
evil. On this side, then, the way is hedged up ; accents 
of wrath greet our ears ; darkness and death meet our eyes. 

Some other method, then, of saving men must be 
provided, or we are lost, — all lost, — forever lost ! And 
will the insulted, offended God provide such a method ? 
Has he provided it ? Is it a safe and sure one ? Is it for 
each and for all? Yes, such a remedy is discovered, 
and it is for us, and for all. " God so loved the world, 
that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever 
believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting 
life." " Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that 
God loved us, and sent his Son to be a propitiation for 
cur sins, and not for our sins only, but also for the sins 
of the whole world." 



188 MORAL GOVERNMENT OF THE WORLD. 

And now, fellow-sinners, you that have broken the 
holy law of God, and brought guilt and condemnation 
on your soul by this sin, will you sin again, and with a 
bolder heart, by rejecting the Lord that bought you, and 
thus expose yourself to that retribution from which noth- 
ing can saye you ? You must renounce the law as your 
hope and salvation, or you reject Hirn who is the end 
of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth. 

There are two classes of men that hold to the law, 
the broken, the condemning law of God, for salvation, 
and thereby reject the hopes of the gospel. The one is 
the ancient Pharisee, and all who at this day resemble 
him. They trust to the merit of obedience, of such an 
obedience as the law requires, and therefore hope to 
live. But they reject the only name whereby we must 
be saved, and therefore they will perish. The other 
class is the Universalist, who trusts to the merit of 
suffering, vainly believing that he dies, every day and 
every hour that he sins, the death that is threatened ; 
and having thus borne the penalty of the law, claims 
the same merit as if he had obeyed the whole law. 
Repentance, pardon, divine mercy, have no place in his 
system ; he expects to be saved because he deserves it, 
and on no other ground. Such is the system of the 
modern Universalist, a system as hostile to the gospel, 
and as subversive of it, as is the religion of the Koran. 
He who embraces it appeals to the law and justice 
of God for salvation, and despising the righteousness 
which is of God by faith, treasures up to himself wrath 
against the day of wrath, and the revelation of the 
righteous judgment of God. And, my hearers, trust ye 
to this system, and you will die in your sins : give up 
the law, as the law of life and salvation, and believe in 
the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved. 



SERMON V. 

THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 



"HE BAITH UNTO THEM, BUT WHOM SAY YE THAT I AM? AKD SIMON PETER 
ANSWERED AND SAID, THOU ART THE CHRIST, THE SON OE THE LIVING 

god. ; ' — Matthew xvi. 15, 16. 

I. 

Our Saviour propounded the question in the text, 
as a means of drawing from his disciples a declaration 
of their opinions in regard to himself and to his mission. 
Having now for a long period of time been admitted to 
constant and familiar intercourse with him ; having 
enjoyed abundant opportunities to observe his manner 
of life in private, as well as in public ; having listened 
to his doctrine, and seen his miracles, he would have 
them distinctly avow the impressions which had been 
made on their minds. 

This avowal, however, he solicited, not for his own 
satisfaction, for he " needed not that any should testify 
to him of man ; for he knew what was in man." He 
sought it rather as a means of influencing the opinions 
of those who had far less opportunity of judging for 
themselves, and withal of fixing strongly and deeply in 
their own minds the great principle which was to serve 
as the basis of a progressive faith and a Christian life. 
For in all matters of a practical nature, it is found that 



190 THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 

ideas of most essential importance may fail to assume 
a firm outline and completeness to the mind, through 
lack of the advantage of being clearly stated and avowed. 
Nothing like a positive, full, and unblinking statement 
of a truth, serves to make that truth satisfactory to the 
understanding, and to give it that power and cogency 
over the mind which of right belongs to it. And herein 
lies one of the obvious advantages of a confession of 
faith, and the ground on which such a confession may 
be justified, and on which the observance of the practice 
becomes obligatory. It is not only a powerful means of 
influencing the belief of others in regard to what is 
claimed to be true and of vital importance to every 
man ; but also of rendering these truths distinct and 
abiding in our own minds, and to the end of subjecting 
the heart and life to their plastic and renovating power. 
Hence, the question propounded in the text is pertinent 
to every living man. It involves the great, central truth 
of Christianity, and the relation of the human soul to 
that truth. Who is Jesus ? In what respects is he dis- 
tinguishable from the race of beings to which he seems 
to belong? For what purpose came he into the world 
and dwelt among men ? What has he taught, and 
what has he done, to give him a preeminence over all 
the benefactors of men ? Are questions on which it 
behooves every man to form an opinion according to 
truth. And that this opinion may not be vague or 
uncertain, or powerless as a means of spiritual culture 
and of endless life, it ought to be clearly stated in a 
form of words, and openly subscribed or otherwise 
avowed. 

Contemplating his disciples as individual men who 
had a personal and eternal interest to be secured through 
him and the gospel he dispensed, or contemplating 



THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 191 

them as the future missionaries of the cause of salvation 
to a world lying in wickedness, Jesus sought, in the 
first place, to have them understand clearly their own 
estimate of him and of his mission, and then to secure 
to them and to others the full benefit of a distinct avowal 
of the same. To accomplish this object he began by 
asking them, " Whom do men say that I the son of man 
am?" And they said, " Some say that thou art John the 
Baptist, some Eli as, and others Jeremias, or one of the 
prophets." Having, in this way, indicated the great 
practical importance to be attatched to the subject to 
which he had called their attention, and prepared their 
minds for a thoughtful consideration of it, he turns the 
question directly upon them. " But whom say ye that I 
am." Peter, who doubtless well understood the minds 
of his associates, and who was foremost either to speak 
or to act on all sudden emergencies, promptly replied, 
" Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." It 
was no vulgar honor which the people designed for 
Jesus, when they placed him in the ranks of the vener- 
ated Prophets of former ages, who were admitted to the 
counsels of the Most High, and were empowered to 
communicate his thoughts to men ; but even this honor 
was not commensurate with the idea that had taken 
possession of the minds of the disciples. There was a 
Personage well known in the church of their fathers, 
from the earliest times, denominated " the angel of the 
Lord ; " " the angel of the covenant ; " " the Shiloh ; " 
" Prince of peace ; " " the Father of the everlasting 
age ; " the " desire of all nations," of whom Abraham 
and Moses, and Daniel, and all the prophets bore wit- 
ness, and to whom, they all ministered ; " the Sun of 
righteousness," wiio in the latter days should rise upon 
the world with healing in his beams, and to whose light 



192 THE CHRIST, THE SON" OF GOD. 

the Gentiles should come ; and this glorious Personage 
it is, whom the adoring disciples recognized, when they 
exclaimed through their accredited speaker, " Thou art 
the Christ, the Son of the living God." 

And it is noticeable, that when Jesus heard this exalted 
confession from the lips of his disciples, so far from 
rejecting the unqualified honor implied, or reproving 
them for any idolatry which might seem to lurk under 
the phrase employed, or cautioning them against the use 
of unguarded expressions, he unreservedly commends 
their faith in the " great mystery of godliness," and 
extols the grace which had enabled them thus to under- 
stand and believe the scriptures concerning himself. 
" And Jesus answered and said unto him, blessed art 
thou Simon, Bar-Jona, for flesh and blood hath not 
revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in 
heaven." 

But we proceed to a more particular consideration of 
the statement in the text, with a view to determine its 
import, and the influence which a belief in the scripture 
doctrine of a Christ is fitted to exert upon the character 
and pursuits of men. This word then, let it be remem- 
bered, is not used, primarily, as the name of a particular 
person, but to denote an office, agency, or constituted 
medium, through which, to bestow benefits on the needy. 
Christ is a word of Greek derivation, which like its 
Hebrew synonym, Messiah, denotes one acting under 
an authority or power commissioned to him. It conveys 
an allusion to the annointing oil, by which, men in 
ancient times were invested with the regal or sacerdotal 
office, and by which, the powers, dignity, and duties of 
these high stations were symbolized. The application 
of the oil, after a prescribed form and ceremony, and by 
a person duly authorized for the purpose, was the evi- 



THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 198 

dence known and accredited of all men, that he who 
had received it, was solemnly invested with the authority 
and trust which belonged to the station designated. The 
generic idea conveyed by the term Christ or Messiah, 
is that of benefaction, and benefaction through the 
voluntary agency of a third person. And, regarded in 
this light, it is manifest that the Christ-hood of the Son 
of God introduces no new principle in the divine method 
of dealing with men. The principle of mediation is 
found to pervade the system which God administers in 
the government of the world. All men, and all commu- 
nities of men, are subject to the general law of media- 
tion, and each in his turn becomes the receiver and the 
distributer of the blessings of a bountiful Providence. 
It is, as if the Most High would not monopolize to 
himself the praise of being the sole benefactor of a race, 
but is pleased to exalt to the rank and honor of co-work- 
ers the souls whom he chooses to bless, and thereby 
stretches through the family of earth, and from the 
birth of time to its consummation, a cord of sympathy 
and gratitude suited to bind all hearts into a holy and 
loving brotherhood. One generation receives its inheri- 
tance of laws and custom, of art and literature and 
science, of domestic and social institutions, through the 
mediation of those who have gone before them ; and in 
their turn become the mediators of the same or richer 
benefits to those who come after them. Gifted men, 
scattered along the history of the world, become the 
mediators of blessings to the time in which they live, 
by the civil institutions which they have founded, by the 
freedom which they have established, the literature they 
have created, or the arts they have invented. These are 
the heroes of elder times, the founders of common- 
wealths, men of far-seeing sagacity and of large hearts, 



194 THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 

whom the world loves to .honor, and who secure their 
reward in the gratitude with which the memory of 
their names and deeds is cherished. The parent who 
nourishes the helpless infant which a careful Providence 
has laid in her arms, becomes its guide and guardian 
through the perilous years of childhood and youth, and 
nurtures it to all manly or womanly virtues, is a media- 
tor of blessings for this life and for that which is to 
come ; while she receives a like office in return, through 
the love and veneration of her offspring, and through the 
hopes she cherishes for what is most dear to her in a 
higher and more blessed state of being. In short, how 
few and meagre are the privileges and benefits which 
distinguish our present state that are not mediate, show- 
ing that a principle of mediatorship — of a Christ-hood 
— is not the peculiar feature of a gospel dispensation, 
but the common, universal method by which God be- 
stows ordinary benefits on the evil and on the good. And, 
indeed, so suited is this provision of infinite wisdom to 
the constitution of man, and so needful for the exercise 
and culture of his noblest endowments, that we see not 
how, on a different principle, the bands of brotherhood 
could be preserved among men, or how a sphere of 
benevolent action could be provided for us, or society, 
with its virtues and ornaments, be known on- the earth. 

But again, in the principle of mediation, which is so 
universally operative under the present divine constitu- 
tion for men, there is developed another feature, which 
brings it into still closer resemblance to the Christ-hood 
of the Son of God. Man is not only the happy instru- 
ment of bestowing benefits on a fellow man, and, like 
the Father of all mercies, most blessed in the charity he 
dispenses, but he, moreover, takes upon himself the 
burdens of another, and submits to want and suffering 



THE CHRIST, THE SOX OF, GOD. 195 

that he may mitigate the distresses of another. There 
is a substitution of one in the place of another, a vicari- 
ous provision, by means of which the system of penal- 
ties is mitigated to the guilty, by being transferred in 
part to the innocent. Nations that have lost their 
liberty, and are reduced to a state of abasement and 
oppression, are relieved and restored to their former 
prosperous condition at the price of the suffering and 
blood of the virtuous patriots. The parent participates 
in the penal consequences of the vices of his offspring, 
and the child inherits the poverty and shame consequent 
on parental improvidence and crime. And not only 
is there a distribution of the evil in such cases, but the 
guilty are not unfrequently relieved in proportion to the 
weight of burden imposed on the innocent. The pov- 
erty, disease, and wretchedness incident to a course of 
improvidence and guilty excess are mitigated by the 
humane provisions of hospitals, alms-houses and retreats, 
which are the product of the toil and self-denial of the 
virtuous. Here, then, is the vicarious principle super- 
added to the mediate ; the innocent, in the place of the 
guilty, bearing pains and penalties due to another, and 
at least mitigating a punishment which otherwise 
would crush the victim of retributive justice. And all 
this appears to be, not accidental and of rare occurrence, 
but of every-day experience, and manifestly an organic 
principle in the divine economy in relation to a depraved 
race. 

These considerations serve to illustrate the general 
notion of a Christ-hood, and especially to show that, as a 
method of imparting relief to the needy and guilty, it is 
not original in the Christian scriptures, or peculiar to 
them. Since man was created the principle of media- 
tion has had scope in the world, and since he became a 



196 THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD 

fallen being this mediation has taken on a vicarious 
nature, in the sense that sin becomes imputative, and 
that its punishment is abated to the transgressor in 
consequence of the sufferings and sacrifices of another. 
The gospel dispensation is but the counterpart, in prin- 
ciple, of what has been witnessed the world over, and 
through all time, and the wisdom and equity of it is 
justified by all analogies derived from the constitution 
of the natural world. That a Christ should be appoint- 
ed for the redemption of the world we can as easily 
believe as that the condition and happiness of men 
should be placed within the power of a fellow man ; 
and that this Christ should bear the sins of many may 
as well be believed as that the innocent among men 
should be allowed to share in the penalty of the guilty, 
and so the sufferings of the transgressor, not indeed be 
cancelled, but greatly abated. 

But the Christ-hood to which Jesus was called, as all 
must concede, is of a high and eminent import. It is an 
office which, though incorporating a principle of ordi- 
nary life, is still of extraordinary difficulty and impor- 
tance in its consummation. It proposes not a relief, but a 
remedy ; it is a contrivance for bringing in an everlasting 
and complete righteousness for all that believe. It not 
only provides for the mitigation of a present penalty, 
but even renders it just for God to justify the ungodly. 
It is not, then, the operating principle which distinguishes 
the Christ-hood of the gospel from all other instances of 
mediatorship known among men, but the dignity of 
the agent employed, the difficulties to be surmounted, 
and the entireness and completeness of the end con- 
templated. 

To understand, then, in what sense and to what extent 
the Son of God is a Christ for men, we are to inquire 



THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 197 

into the wants of men, as revealed in the common 
consciousness of the race, and what the gospel proposes 
to accomplish for men through the Christ which is 
there offered for our belief. We are not to reject the 
Christ because the idea of mediation, or imputation, or 
vicarious sacrifice is involved in it, or on the assumption 
that repentance is a sufficient remedy for all the penal 
evils to which the transgressor is liable. For this would 
be departing from all the analogies that meet us under 
the natural government of God. Here we find that 
repentance alone does not make an exemption from 
the penal consequences of sin ; and, furthermore, we 
find that the blessings of Providence are distributed 
through the agency of men, and not uncommonly that 
the natural punishment of transgressions are, in a sense, 
transferred to the innocent, and expiated by them. We 
come, then, to a just and adequate idea of a Christ in 
the gospel sense, and indeed the highest human sense, 
only by conceiving of the relations of man to the law 
and the government of God. The true doctrine of a 
Christ is that of a mediatorship, in which not only are 
benefits bestowed, but benefits upon the guilty, and 
through the expedient of vicarious suffering. Not only 
are the needy to be relieved, but the guilty to be par- 
doned, and the offended and the offender reconciled. It 
is an expedient by which the justice of God may be 
vindicated in the justification of those who believe. 
The doctrine of a Christ, then, can have no intelligible 
foundation but in the conceded truth, that man is a 
sinful being, and held liable to a penalty which is 
commensurate with the value of the divine law to the 
universe. In the absence of such an admission no 
adequate idea of a Christ could enter the mind ; for there 
is no proper occasion for a Christ, except when law and 

17* 



198 THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 

the well-being of its subjects are in conflict. If the law 
forego its claims on the transgressor, or if the sinner 
have in himself wherewith to satisfy the law, then is 
every man his own Christ. 

Such is the doctrine which the apostle clearly states 
in his epistle to the Romans, and to which all who 
believe in a Christ of God must yield their assent. 
" Being justified freely by his grace, through the redemp- 
tion that is in Christ Jesus ; whom God hath set forth 
to be a propitiation, through faith in his blood, to declare 
his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, 
through the forbearance of God. To declare, I say, at 
this time, his righteousness, that God may be just, and 
the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus." 

The obvious design, then, of the word Christ was to 
suggest to the mind the idea of a mediatorship, by 
means of which conflicting parties might be brought 
together, and an offended God reconciled to offending 
man. Hence, the person who sustains this office is des- 
cribed by the apostle as one " in whom God is reconcil- 
ing the world unto himself, not imputing unto them 
their trespasses." The necessity for such an office all 
men feel who believe in the obligation of God's law upon 
them, and reflect that they stand in the relation of 
sinners to that law, and thus far are liable to its penalty. 
They perceive that a broken law has but one method of 
asserting its authority, — that of inflicting, without mercy, 
the punishment due to the transgressor ; and hence they 
are led to inquire for a Christ, a remedy for their misera- 
ble, helpless state, and are prepared to welcome, with 
joy inexpressible, the tidings that Jesus, the Christ of 
God, has come to seek and to save that which was lost. 

But we are to consider, moreover, that in the general 
idea of mediatorship, denoted by the word Christ, certain 



THE CHRIST, THE SOX OF GOD. » 199 

essential things are included that need to be distinctly 
apprehended and fully appreciated by the mind. 

But no adequate idea of a Christ can exist that does 
not include a supreme authority to teach and guide. 

It is one of the evils of our fallen state, that the chan- 
nels of intercourse between our minds and God, the 
fountain of knowledge, are cut off, and we are left to 
grope our way in darkness. " The world by wisdom 
knew not God," is the account given of the most en- 
lightened portion of our race when abandoned of God 
to the simple teachings of nature and reason. Now, the 
Christ that we need, and without which it is impossible 
to conceive how he should be a Christ to us, is one 
who shall restore to us those lessons of heavenly truth 
which had become lost to the world. We must know 
God, or how shall we love and fear Him ? We must be 
made to understand ourselves, and learn our guilty and 
miserable state as sinners, and, by the hand of a trusty 
guide, be led into the paths of virtue and obedience ; 
and for all this we must depend on the Christ of God. 
A Christ that was not a light to them that sit in dark- 
ness, — a guide to those who had gone astray, — yea, the 
Shepherd and Bishop of souls, would be a hopeless 
remedy for the case of beings like ourselves. Hence, 
the Christ of the gospel was announced as a teacher 
come from God ; and the first acts recorded of his min- 
istry, were those of teaching and preaching the gospel 
of the kingdom of God. In the next place, the idea of 
an atonement, of a propitiatory sacrifice for sin, enters 
into the true doctrine of a Christ. How shall he recon- 
cile us to God, except by propitiating, in his own person 
and by his own sufferings, the favor of God towards the 
offender ? How can we become the righteousness of 
God in him, unless he be made sin for us? How can 



200 • THE CHRIST, THE SO^ OF GOD. 

he redeem us from the curse of the law, but by being 
made a curse for us ? A Christ without a priesthood in 
which, by the sacrifice of himself, he might put away 
sin and effect our propitiation, is not the Christ that we 
need. 

Once more, the true doctrine of a Christ embraces the 
idea of kingly authority. The Saviour of the world 
must be its Lord and sovereign, — promulgating, with 
high authority, a law of righteousness for the obedience 
of revolted men, as the alone condition on which he can 
present them unto God, even the Father, without blem- 
ish and without spot. Hence, the Christ of God is set 
forth as King in Zion, the head of all principalities and 
powers, at whose name every knee shall bow, and 
every tongue confess that he is Lord. This is the 
Christ whom sinners need, — the Christ whom the 
ancient prophets foretold, — and whose advent was 
announced in the songs of the heavenly host, when 
they proclaimed peace on earth and good- will to men. 
This is the Christ whom the disciple recognized in 
Jesus of Nazareth, and to whom the lost sinner, impelled 
by his own fears and necessities, and guided by the word 
of God, commits his soul to be justified and saved. 
This is the being who, by virtue of his Christ-hood, is 
become Prince and Saviour, — the Lord of life, — the 
Captain of salvation, and to whom all who labor and 
are heavy laden may come, and find rest to their souls. 



II. 

We have seen that the word Christ is used in the 
text, not simply as a proper name, but for the purpose 



THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 201 

of designating an office or agency. When the human 
mind is led to consider its relations to a moral law, and 
to reflect that these relations have all been neglected or 
violated; that sin has entered the heart, and with it, 
"death and all our woe;" that the guilty soul now lies 
helpless and forsaken, exposed to a dreadful penalty for 
its sins ; the question at once arises, Is there no remedy ? 
Is there no power out of myself, on earth or in heaven, 
that has pity on my soul, and can bring relief to its 
necessities ? Can there be no expedient devised by 
which the authority of the divine law may be sustained, 
while the sinner, like myself, may be permitted to go 
unpunished ? Can there be no provision made by which, 
while the honor of divine justice is left inviolate, mercy 
may be permitted to go forth to reclaim the guilty and 
save the lost? Can there not be a mediatorship insti- 
tuted, in which the offender and the offended may be 
brought together and reconciled ? These are the inqui- 
ries that naturally arise in the mind when awakened to 
a sense of its guilt and danger in transgressing the holy 
laws of God; and these inquiries are but the. develop- 
ment of the idea of a Christ, which has taken possession 
of the mind. Christ is the remedy, whatever it may be, 
for the necessities of the sinner. The need of such a 
remedy is felt by all on whom the curse of a broken law 
has fallen : the assurance that such a remedy exists can 
be given only by Him who has the right and the power 
to provide it. The Christ of God is the mediatorship 
appointed by Him, through which he may be just and 
the justifier of them that believe. It is that provision 
of divine love and mercy by which the law is magnified, 
while the sinner is justified freely by the grace of God ; 
a glorious expedient, devised by Infinite wisdom and 



202 THE CHRIST, THE SOX OF GOD. 

knowledge, and in which the several agencies of prophet, 
priest, and king are combined, and made subservient to 
the reconciliation of sinners to God. Such was the 
remedy which guilty man needed ; and this remedy the 
disciples believed they had found in Jesus of Nazareth. 
Hence their united confession, — " Thou art the Christ ;" 
in thee we have discovered what our needy, dying souls 
have long desired to find, — the Messiah promised to our 
fathers ; the hope and consolation of Israel ; the desire 
of all nations ; the Christ of God. But we proceed, 
as was proposed, 

II. To consider the declaration, that this Christ is the 
Son of God. " Thou art the Christ, the Son of the 
living God." These last words are subjoined to set forth 
more fully the exalted views which the disciples enter- 
tained of the dignity and glory of their master. It was 
not enough to say, " Thou art the Christ;" it was neces- 
sary, in order to satisfy their minds, to add to this, that 
in their apprehension, he was the Christ because he was 
the Son of the living God. The Christ-hood was an 
office of too much dignity, and its duties too mighty 
and responsible, to be sustained by any being inferior to 
the Son of the Most High God. But it is said the title, 
" Son of God," is only an expression of endearment, or 
significant, merely, of the high and supernatural mission 
on which the man Jesus was employed ; or, at least, but 
a symbolical pledge that divine protection and assistance 
should be vouchsafed him. But if it is in this humble 
sense only that the title, " Son of God," is applied to 
Jesus in the Gospels, then why should it give such 
offence as it did to the Jews ? " For a good work," say 
they, " we stone thee not; but for blasphemy, and be- 
cause that thou, being a man, makest thyself God." 



THE CHRIST, THE SOX OF GOD. ■ 203 

Jesus answered them: "Say ye of him whom the Fa- 
ther has sanctified and sent into the world, Thou 
blasphemest; because I said, I am the Son of God?" 
This shows clearly in what sense the phrase, " Son of 
God," was generally understood among the Jews. It 
was equivalent to making the being to whom it was 
applied equal with God ; and, of course, to apply it to 
a mere man was, in their apprehension, an act of pre- 
eminent blasphemy, rendering the person who thus 
used or assumed it w r orthy of death. In this sense, 
then, it is natural to suppose the disciples used the 
phrase in our text, " Son of the living God." They 
understood these words as their countrymen generally 
understood them ; and they applied them to Jesus in the 
sense of attributing to him a divine nature and essence. 
And why should it surprise us to hear him accosted with 
such titles, and titles understood in the highest sense 
w r hich they can bear? Is it not in terms of even less 
doubtful import that he is spoken of, in numerous pas- 
sages of inspired writing, and set forth as co-equal and 
co-eternal with the Father ? Who can hear him say, " I 
and my Father are one," and not believe that the Jews 
were justified in taking up stones to stone him, if he 
were but a mere man ? Who can listen to his sublime 
language at the grave of Lazarus, " I am the resurrection 
and the. life," and not feel that it is the voice of the Son 
of God, — the supreme Divinity that he hears? Who 
can read the opening verses of St. John's gospel, and 
ever after feel surprised at any titles of dignity and 
honor that should be put on the Lord's annointed ? 
" In the beginning was the word, and the word was with 
God, and the word was God. The same was in the be- 
ginning with God. All things were made by him, and 



201 THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 

without him was not anything made that was made ; in 
him was life, and the life was the light of men." " And 
the word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, and we 
beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the 
Father, full of grace and truth." We conclude, then, 
that the language employed in the text is to be under- 
stood in its most obvious import; that by it the dis- 
ciples meant to assert the divinity of the person who 
appeared as the Christ of God. 

With this conclusion before our minds, a few reflec- 
tions naturally suggest themselves, which are deserving 
of our most serious consideration. 

1. That the scheme of reconciliation revealed in the 
gospel is characterized by admirable wisdom and pro- 
priety. It accords with the dictates of common reason to 
suppose that, in all cases, the umpire or mediator should 
sustain a similar relation to both the parties which he 
seeks to reconcile. In all cases of controversy between 
man and man, and so, too, between one nation and 
another, respect is always had to this circumstance. It 
is not enough that a man is capable and honest to fit 
him to negotiate as a mediator; he must be either 
indifferent to both parties in his personal feelings, or he 
must be alike favorable to both. Now, a controversy of 
the most serious character is pending between the mighty 
Ruler of the universe and the children of men. It is 
proposed on the part of Him, to whom in justice the 
lives of the guilty are forfeited, to attempt a reconcilia- 
tion with His offending subjects through the intervention 
of an umpire or advocate. Now, what standing and 
dignity shall the proposed mediator be required to pos- 
sess ? In this respect, the parties at variance are 
infinitely removed from each other. The one is the 



THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 205 

self-existent, eternal God, the Ruler and Proprietor of 
all worlds ; the other is a being of yesterday ; a tenant 
of the earth ; a frail, helpless, and dying creature. It is 
fitting, as all must perceive, that the dignity and majesty 
of the everlasting God should be worthily represented 
in the proposed mediator ; and no less desirable is it, if 
the thing is possible, that the creature of earth, oppressed 
with fears and miseries, should be able to discern in 
the same mediator, one of his own kindred who had 
struggled with the same temptations that assault him, 
and who could be touched with the feeling of his infirm- 
ities. "But such a mediator, precisely — if you under- 
stand my text as I do — such a mediator has the 
wisdom and love of God provided to stand between 
Him and His revolted subjects, — a being who sustains 
to all sinners a relation as near and as endearing as he 
sustains to an offended God, — a being who, in the lan- 
guage of Job, is fitted by his twofold nature " to lay his 
hands upon us both." If, on the one hand, he appears as 
the eternal Word, dwelling with God from everlasting, 
and jealous of the honor of the Godhead with whose 
fulness he is evermore filled ; on the other hand, he 
comes to us as the word made flesh, and is not ashamed 
to call us brethren. In the person of Jesus of Nazareth, 
he is found in fashion as a man ; he is clothed with all 
the infirmities of our nature ; exposed to all the temp- 
tations of the world and of Satan ; himself a man of 
sorrows, and exercised in all the sympathies that we 
need, so that he may become a merciful and faithful 
high-priest in things pertaining to God, making recon- 
ciliation for the sin of the people. Behold, then, all ye 
who feel the wants and woes of a guilty spirit, — behold 
the Christ that is provided for you; behold him, the Son 

18 



206 THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 

of God, and yet the son of man, and admire the adora- 
ble wisdom and love of God which has so mercifully 
suited the remedy to your case ! 

2. Another reflection suggested by the text is, that 
sin must be an evil of incalculable magnitude. Famili- 
arity with sin, in the way of committing, if not of 
beholding it, impairs the sensibility of the mind to its 
turpitude, and prepares us in time to regard it as a light 
evil. Crimes which at first shock the sensibilities of 
our minds, when they come to be frequent in commu- 
nity, lose .much of their original odiousness. Hence, 
it comes that men. entertain such low views of the 
enormity of sin, and that fools make a mock at it. But 
the great God, who knows the nature and essence of all 
things, and apprehends clearly the relations, tendencies, 
and results of all moral actions, cannot misjudge in 
regard to the evil and demerit of sin. And how great 
the evil of it in His eyes may be reasonably inferred from 
the measures He has taken to do it away. It would be 
an obvious presumption against the benevolence of God 
to suppose that He would be prodigal of suffering, or 
that He would require in a way of humiliation and sac- 
rifice what was unnecessary fully to expiate the evil of 
sin. Hence, if we can ascertain in what the atonement 
consists, — what being was required to constitute the 
sacrifice, and through what agonies of body and spirit 
the expiation was wrought out, — then we may conclude 
that nothing short of this was an adequate remedy for 
sin ; and hence, that this is a fair expression of its mag- 
nitude as a moral evil. Now, though we may not be 
able to express in language the sufferings of our media- 
tor as an atonement for sin ; though we cannot fathom 
the horrors of his soul when he sank to the earth in 



THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 207 

prayers and tears and bloody sweat in the garden, or 
when he cried out on the cross, in agonies more terrible 
than those of death, — " My God, why hast Thou for- 
saken me," — we still have one test by which the mag- 
nitude of sin may be determined. We know that no 
ordinary being was competent to expiate it by any 
sufferings he might endure, because no ordinary being 
was employed for this purpose. Murder we judge to 
be a great crime under our laws, because a great punish- 
ment is required to expiate it. What then must be the 
demerit of sin, which could have no forgiveness till the 
" Son of the living God " appeared to take it away by 
the shedding of his own blood? In the works of God 
there is a just proportion observed between the end and 
its means. How incalculably great, then, must the end 
be, to which the Son of the Most High God stands re- 
lated as the only adequate means ? Think of this, O 
man, if you would know how dreadful a crime it is to 
disobey the holy will of God ! 

One more reflection, suggested by the text, which I 
shall notice, is, that the remedy revealed in the gospel 
for sinners is adequate to the necessities of all mankind. 
The Christ is a Christ for all. All alike need him ; all 
alike may find him ; and whoever cometh to him, shall 
in no wise be cast out. The remedy revealed, is a 
remedy for the race ; and of its adequacy to meet the 
necessities of all we have a pledge in the assurance 
that he who is chosen of God to be the Christ is himself 
the Son of the living God. Let no one, then, despair, 
for the Captain of our salvation is able to do all that we 
need ; he can save to the uttermost them that come to 
God by him. And let no one be discouraged because 
the favor which he needs is in the hands of him who is 



208 THE CHRIST, THE SON OF GOD. 

the judge of the quick and dead for dispensation ; for 
remember, that he is also bone of our bone, and flesh of 
our flesh, and is touched with a feeling of our infirmities. 
Having, therefore, such a Christ, who by his own blood 
has obtained eternal redemption for us, let us have bold- 
ness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, by 
a new and living way which he hath consecrated for us. 



SE11M0N VI. 



THE WORK OE THE SPIRIT. 



** O THOU THAT ART NAMED THE HOUSE OF JACOB, IS THE SPIRIT OF THE 
LORD STRAITENED? ARE THESE HIS DOINGS? DO NOT MY WORDS DO GOOD 
TO HIM THAT WALKETH UPRIGHTLY?' 1 — Micall ii. 7.1 



The reason for such close and pointed interrogations 
addressed to the house of Jacob is to be found in the 
preceding verse. The people had become dissatisfied 
with the teachers whom God had set over them, — their 
manner and ways were unsuited to their tastes, or their 
doctrines failed to flatter their pride or to soothe and 
comfort their hearts ; and, hence, they endeavored to 
arrest these holy men in their work, and to procure more 
acceptable teachers in their stead. 

" Prophecy ye not, say they to them that prophecy ; 
they shall not prophecy to them, that they shall not take 
shame." As if they had said, " Away with these men 
who will not stoop to consult the tastes and occasions of 
their hearers, but with sad and unwelcome tidings con- 
tinually molest the ears of the people, and put them to 
confusion, « and give us those who will "preach unto 

1 1849. [The reader will find in this discourse Dr. Smith's testimony to 
the value of the regular ordinances of the gospel, and a fuller exposition 
of the principles that influenced him in his treatment of Mr. Burchard and 
his friends. See Memoir, p. 20. — C.J 
18* 



210 THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 

us smooth things." " They will not say," observes Mat- 
thew Henry, " Let us have no ministers at all ; but they 
will have such as will say just what they will have them, 
and go their way." 

For this unbecoming treatment of His servants — 
the true and rightful shepherds of His flock — the Most 
High expostulates with His people in our text, " O thou 
that art named the house of Jacob!" You boast of 
your relation to this eminent patriarch, the man who 
had power over the angel and prevailed, — from whom 
sprang a mighty nation, — the father of an illustrious 
line of priests and prophets. Now, then, let me ask you, 
ye descendants of these holy ancestors, ye heirs of the 
promises made of God unto your fathers, " Is the 
Spirit of the Lord straitened ? " Do you hope that by 
silencing the Lord's prophets you will baffle the designs 
of his Spirit also ? Will men of your pretensions pre- 
sume to dictate to my Spirit how, and by whom, he 
shall speak to the children of men ? Will you take it 
upon yourselves to annul his high appointments; to 
break up the order of his house ; or even to judge 
whether his work could not be better done in some 
other way, or by some other instruments? 

"Are these his doings?" Did your honored father 
Jacob ever set before you an example of such arrogance? 
Did he ever intimate that the Spirit's chosen way of 
doing his work was not the best way ? or that he was 
embarrassed, or that his power was straitened, or that 
his glory was obscured by adhering to his own mode of 
accomplishing God's gracious intentions concerning the 
children of men ? 

" Do not my words do good to him that walketh 
uprightly?" The words of the Spirit by his appointed, 
faithful servants are the words of God ; and these words 






THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 211 

are "with power" to all whose hearts are open to receive 
them. His chosen way of doing good to men is not 
only a good way, but the way for doing the most good 
with the least evil. His appointed methods, instead of 
limiting and straitening his operations, impart to them 
their highest freedom and their widest scope ; instead of 
circumscribing his powers, they secure to it its greatest 
and safest effect. This is the experience of the saints. 
They know that my words do good and only good, 
yea, and the greatest good, to him that walks uprightly. 
They know that the Holy Spirit is not embarrassed, 
either by the truths he sends to men, or by the ordinary 
methods he has chosen by which to communicate these 
truths. Foolish and short-sighted men may imagine 
that his plan may be improved ; that some unwelcome 
truths which he employs may be thrown into the shade ; 
or that some instruments whom he has honored may 
be supplanted by those whom the people delight to 
honor ; or that ways and means which, as it should seem, 
the Spirit never contemplated may with great advan- 
tage be engrafted on his system. But these suggestions 
have no weight with God. He still declares that His 
system is the best ; it commends itself to all the up- 
right, because it does their hearts good ; it satisfies the 
Holy Spirit, because it gives tree scope to his almighty 
power, and supplies the means of doing all the good He 
has to do, and of doing it with the greatest honor to 
Himself, and with the least evil to the world and to the 
Church. 

With these explanatory remarks, I proceed to call 
your attention to the principal question moved in the 
text, — " Is the Spirit of the Lord straitened ? " 

None of my hearers, 1 trust, will be at a Joss to deter- 
mine who the Spirit of the Lord is. He is the Spirit 



212 THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 

of the prophets, — the Spirit of truth and holiness who 
qualified the ancient seers for their mission, and instructed 
them what, and in what manner, they should speak to 
men. For the " holy men of old spake as they were 
moved by the Holy Ghost." It is the same Spirit that 
was given to Jesus "without measure;" that descended 
upon the disciples on the day of Pentecost, when they 
were all baptized into the Holy Ghost; that filled the 
apostles, inditing all that they spoke and wrote for the 
instruction of men, and that dwells in all them that 
believe. It is the Spirit that reproves the world of sin, 
of righteousness, and of judgment ; that fell upon 
Cornelius and all that were with him in his house ; 
that opened the heart of Lydia and of all those who in 
apostolic times, " received power to become the sons of 
God," — " to attend to the things that were spoken ; " the 
same Spirit that in every succeeding age has been shed 
forth from on high, and, by the working of his mighty 
power, turned to God each and every soul " that was 
ordained to eternal life." 

Now, concerning this gracious and wonder-working 
agent, the question is raised in the text, — " Is the Spirit 
of the Lord straitened? — are these his works?" Has 
he undertaken what he cannot accomplish ? Does he 
work by a plan and method that embarrasses or circum- 
scribes his power ? Will he be defeated in any part of 
his great design, or, in short, find any great difficulty in 
accomplishing all that has been assigned to him in the 
covenant of redemption, and in bringing home to glory 
every soul that has been given to Christ ? 

The subject here presented will lead me to consider 
the two following inquiries, to which I would invite 
your candid and serious attention, to wit : In what sense 
may the Spirit of the Lord be straitened ? And in what 
sense is he not staitened ? 



THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 213 

I. In what sense may the Spirit of the Lord be 
straitened ? 

On this question, I remark: — 

1. That his work on the hearts of men is limited to 
the purposes of God. The Holy Spirit was given unto 
man to accomplish a specific and determinate end. He 
was not sent hither to accomplish every conceivable 
kind of good, or even the greatest conceivable amount 
of good. When the Most High determined to create a 
world, he formed in his mind a conception of what sort 
of a world he would build, — of what form, of what 
dimensions, and of what materials it should be con- 
structed. So, too, when he conceived the glorious design 
of creating a new heaven and a new earth wherein right- 
eousness should dwell, he sketched in his own mind a 
pattern of the stupendous edifice. He determined its 
size and its proportions, and selected each of the " lively 
stones " with which it should be constructed, and each 
of the ornaments with which the holy temple should be 
adorned. Like a wise architect, he began his work with 
his whole plan before him. The part assigned to the 
Holy Spirit was to build these heavens and this earth, 
and to build them " according to the pattern of heavenly 
things," — according to the model devised in the secret 
counsels of heaven. This he undertook to do ; and he 
undertook nothing more. His work was limited to his 
plan, and when this was executed his mission to earth 
was finished. The plan of salvation limited his power 
to sanctify and to save, just in the same sense that it 
limits the prerogatives of Christ as an intercessor. " I 
pray for them : I pray not for the world, but for them 
which thou hast given me; for they are thine." To this 
point only did the power of the Spirit extend in the plan 
of God. " As thou hast given him power over all flesh, 



214 THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 

that he should give eternal life to as many as thou hast 
given him." " The purpose of God according to elec- 
tion," must stand. Those "who from the beginning 
were chosen to salvation through sanctification of the 
Spirit and belief of the truth," must be brought in. 
They who are " predestinated to be conformed to the 
image of his Son," must be called ; the called must be 
justified ; and the justified, glorified ; and then the work 
of the Spirit is finished ; and the Church of God, glori- 
ous as the Bride of heaven, and swelled to a multitude 
which no man can number, is presented before the pres- 
ence of his glory with exceeding joy. 

2. The Spirit is confined in his operations to this 
world and to the limits of time. The human family is 
not the only race of accountable beings that has broken 
its allegiance to God, and now lies in ruin before Him. 
The Bible speaks of other beings in like condemnation 
with ourselves ; spirits of a higher order, and of loftier 
eminence among the creatures of God, — spirits that 
shone like the morning star in the firmament of angels, 
who are reserved in everlasting chains under darkness, 
unto the judgment of the great day. 

Now, the Holy Spirit has no mission to these fallen 
spirits, — no work of mercy for their benefit is com- 
mitted to his hands. God's plan of salvation did not 
embrace this race of beings ; no part of them appears to 
have been given to Christ, or included in the propitiation 
he made for our sins ; and hence we discover no pro- 
vision for the sanctifying work of the Spirit on their 
hearts. 

Again, as his work is limited to the inhabitants of 
this world, so, too, it is circumscribed by the boundaries 
of time. The work of Christ influences the destinies of 
men in eternity only as it influences their characters in 



.THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT 215 

this life. Hence, the remarkable and solemn words 
which, on different occasions, fell from his lips. " A 
little while I am with you, and then I go to him that 
sent me, and ye shall seek me and shall not find me, and 
where T am, thither ye cannot come." " Many, I say 
unto you, shall seek to enter in and shall not be able." 
And what language can affirm the truth more strongly, 
that death terminates the hope of the sinner; that be- 
yond this period no provision exists for the salvation of 
those who have hitherto remained in unbelief! Hence- 
forth, the offers of mercy are outlawed; the atoning 
work of Christ the same to the sinner as if he had never 
suffered ; the work of the Spirit brought to a final close. 
He that is righteous will be righteous still, and he that 
is filthy will be filthy still ! 

3. The work of the Spirit is limited instru mentally to 
the Word of God. We say, indeed, that the Spirit is a 
sovereign in his work ; but a sovereign worker may, at 
the same time, be a methodical worker. He is a sover- 
eign in his work, because he works after his own pattern 
and not after ours. To us, his influences on the hearts 
of men appear, oftentimes, like the movement of the 
wind, concerning which we know not whence it cometh, 
nor whither it goeth. But as the winds of heaven have 
their laws, determining both their force and direction, 
though too intricate and subtle for our inspection, so, in 
reality, does the Holy Spirit observe his own methods 
of operation. Does he " reprove the world of sin ? " It 
is by his word in their consciences. Does he strive with 
the sinner, and does the sinner resist? It is a striving 
by that truth " which commends itself to the conscience 
of every man in the sight of God;" and a resistance, 
too, made to the same truth. Does he bring the sinner 
unto God ? It is " by the foolishness of preaching he 



216 THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 

saves them that believe." Does he employ his ministers 
to achieve the conversion of men ? He does it by the 
truth, — " for in Christ Jesus," said the most successful 
of Christ's ministers, " have I begotten you through the 
gospel." Does he appear on the earth, as on the day of 
Pentecost and at other remarkable periods, a mighty 
conqueror, prostrating hundreds and thousands in sweet 
submission at his feet ? It is all done by the sword of 
the Spirit, which is the word of God. Does he sanctify 
and comfort the saints ? He does this also by the same 
instrument. " Sanctify them," prays the Saviour for his 
disciples of every age, " through thy truth ; thy word is 
truth." " How shall they call on him in whom they 
have not believed," inquires the apostle, " and how shall 
they believe in him of whom they have not heard ? " 
And to the same effect are the words of the prophet, 
" My people are destroyed through lack of knowledge ;" 
and again, " Where there is no vision (no light of divine 
truth), the people perish.". 

4. The Spirit is limited in his work on the hearts of 
men to the concurrence and cooperation of his people. 
This position we feel authorized to lay down as the rule 
which the Spirit has chosen, generally, to observe in his 
operations. There may be, apparently, exceptional cases 
under this rule ; and yet, perhaps, the exceptions be such 
only in appearance. The agency of man in the conver- 
sion of sinners may, in many instances, be very different 
from what it appears to us. This agency may be remote 
from the scene where the effect is witnessed ; and yet be 
very near and present, as viewed by the Holy Spirit, — 
near and present in that fervent and effectual prayer 
which availeth much. The rule respecting the opera- 
tions of the Spirit, as laid down in the Scriptures, is on 
this wise, — "Yet for all this will I be inquired of, by the 



THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 217 

house of Israel, to do it for them." There must be the 
concurrence of God's people, and the cooperation, at 
least, of their prayers. In this sense, the Apostle denom- 
inates the saints " co-workers with God." Moreover, 
when he speaks of the work of the Spirit in connec- 
tion with his own labors, he adds, " It is through your 
prayers." In all parts of the Scriptures, both of the Old 
and New Testament, when this work is alluded to, great 
stress is commonly laid on the concurrent operation of 
the people of God. When they speak often to one 
another, the Lord hearkens and hears. When they bring 
all the tithes into his store-house, then the windows of 
heaven are opened, and blessings are poured forth till 
there is not room enough to receive them. When they 
strive together in their prayers for the ministers of Christ, 
then the word of the Lord has free course and is glori- 
fied. Finally, the promises that secure the interposition 
of the Spirit, all seem to be conditioned on the coop- 
eration of God's people ; and to them is imputed the 
agency, and the sin of grieving and vexing the Spirit. 
And it deserves our most thoughtful consideration, what 
great power a single individual seems to be invested 
with on certain occasions, either for promoting or retard- 
ing the work of the Lord. You all remember the story 
of David, when he went forth with the joyful thousands 
of Israel to bring up the ark of God to his city, and how 
that pious design was defeated by the rash interposition 
of a single man. The aggrieved Spirit frowned into dark- 
ness the joy and jubilee of that day, and sent all Israel 
to their tents stricken with sorrow and with shame. 
You remember, too, how, in the days of Joshua, the 
whole host of Israel was arrested in their triumphs, and 
their hearts " melted and became like wax," because the 
Spirit of the Lord was grieved. It was only one man 

19 



218 THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 

who did the sin, and he an obscure man, and his offence 
a private one. Yet it was sufficient to stay the work of 
the Lord, and to demand a searching throughout the 
whole camp before God's Spirit would be entreated to 
go up with the people. All these considerations go to 
show that the people of God have a great influence on 
the work of the Spirit, and that there is a sense in which 
they may accelerate or retard his work. 

But I proceed to our second inquiry. 

II. In what sense is the Spirit of the Lord not strait- 
ened? 

On this topic, I remark, in the first place, that no part 
of divine truth is of a quality to quench the Spirit's 
operations, or to diminish their power. It is sometimes 
suggested that great prudence and caution should be 
used in selecting topics suited to promote a revival of 
religion and the conversion of sinners. We must be 
especially careful, it is thought, to keep out of sight such 
doctrines as predestination, personal election, the sover- 
eignty of God, and the absolute dependence of the 
sinner on divine grace, because of their supposed ten- 
dency to discourage human effort; to diminish the 
consciousness of guilt, and foster a state of indifference 
and security in the mind, or to awaken disgust and 
opposition. These truths, even though admitted to be 
of divine authority, are not unfrequently represented as 
hostile to religious impressions and, hence, as serving to 
counteract the work of the Spirit in the conversion of 
sinners. But, if these truths proceeded from the Spirit ; 
if they are an essential part of that system of doctrines 
which he moved holy men to publish to the world ; if 
they form, in connection with other truths, the edge and 
temper of that sword which he wields, which is the word 
of God ; then, how can they serve, but by gross and 



THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 219 

wicked perversion, to hinder his work ? How can the 
Spirit's own instruments be supposed to defeat the very- 
end for which they were wisely chosen ? How can the 
sword turn against the hand that wields it, and even 
serve as a defence to those whom it would subdue ? Do 
you say that the consciences of men do not respond to 
these sentiments ; that the mind is distracted and per- 
plexed by them ; and that, therefore, they only serve to 
straiten the Spirit in his work ? Why, then, let me ask, 
did not the all-comprehending mind of the Spirit foresee 
this and withhold them ? Why did he select, as a means 
to an end, that which was not only inadequate, but in 
its own nature unsuited to the end ? But it is not so. 
These truths do commend themselves to the conscience 
of every man, and the heart that can withstand all per- 
suasion and gird itself up to defy all terror, quails and 
trembles under their withering power. 

You remember the story of Nicodemus, who came to 
Jesus by night to converse with him on the affairs of his 
soul. Christ received him kindly, and most earnestly 
and affectionately engaged in the work of his conversion. 
But how did he begin ? Why, almost the first word he 
said to him was, " except a man be born of water and 
the Spirit, he cannot see the kingdom of God." Here, 
the doctrine of regeneration and the absolute dependence 
of the sinner on the Holy Spirit for the performance of 
this work is the first lesson he gives the anxious inquirer. 
And the second lesson he gives is the sovereignty of God 
in renewing the heart, saying, " the wind bloweth where 
it listeth;" and "so is everyone that is born of the 
Spirit." Christ did not imagine that he was putting 
the Holy Spirit into straits by preaching thus to Nico- 
demus ; or that, in any degree, he was hindering or 
retarding the work of God on his heart And his antici- 



220 THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 

pations were not disappointed in the result. Nicodemus 
became a renewed man, and an eminent disciple of 
Christ. He fearlessly lifted up his voice in defence of 
his Master before the scoffing Sanhedrim, and he was 
the only man to be found in all Jewry (saving Joseph of 
Arimathea) who, in that day of wrath and violence, 
dared to go in unto Pilate and demand the body of 
Jesus for interment. And it is not improbable that this 
very interview he had with Christ, and the soul-humbling 
doctrines he heard on this occasion, were the means, not 
only of his conversion, but of his becoming the bold, the 
determined, and steadfast disciple which he proved him- 
self to be in an hour of general apostasy. 

How often, too, on other occasions, do we hear the 
same divine Preacher, when he would arouse the mul- 
titudes from their carnal security and engage them in 
the earnest pursuit of their salvation, address them in 
language like the following : " No man can come to 
me except the Father which hath sent me draw him." 
" Many shall seek to enter in and shall not be able." 
" Many are called, but few chosen." How plainly, with- 
out misgiving or reserve, did the Apostles preach the 
doctrine of divine decrees, - — not of divine providence 
merely, but of the pre-conceived purpose, without which 
the doctrine of a providence is unintelligible, — as the 
means of awakening sinners and of persuading the 
anxious to flee unto God. In that memorable sermon 
which Peter preached on the day of Pentecost, and as 
the fruit of which no less than three thousand souls 
were awakened and renewed by the Spirit, we hear him 
proclaim, in audible and emphatic tones, a doctrine 
which in the opinion of some prudent men would 
destroy any revival of religion ; saying, " Him, being 
delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge 



THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 221 

of God, ye have taken, and with wicked hands have cru- 
cified and slain." The Most High is here distinctly set 
forth, not simply as foreseeing, but as purposing, even 
the wicked actions of men ; and yet this doctrine is 
used to promote the most illustrious revival of religion 
on record. The Holy Spirit, on this occasion, did not 
feel himself dishonored by this truth, nor did he give 
signs that his arm was paralyzed by it, so that he could 
not save. 

In the second place, the Spirit is not straitened in his 
work by the simplicity of the means employed, or the 
absence of show and parade in the application of them. 
His own declared method of operation, we have said, 
requires the presence of divine truth, and, ordinarily, the 
concurrence of his people ; but it does not require an 
ostentatious and imposing display of human means and 
efforts to make his power effective. The most glorious 
triumphs of the Holy Spirit, which his own pen has 
recorded, were those achieved in the absence of all such 
parade of means and measures. As an illustration of 
this fact, let me refer you to the account of the memo- 
rable events on the day of Pentecost, in the second 
chapter of the Acts. It is true a miracle had been 
wrought on the morning of that day ; the Spirit de- 
scended and baptized the disciples with fire and they 
spoke with tongues. But what of all that ? The people 
witnessed the miracle ; but they only treated it with 
scorn and derision. " These men," said they, " are full 
of new wine." But now commenced the appropriate 
means on which the events of that day were made to 
depend. The twelve Apostles, unlearned and ordinary 
men, stood forth, modestly and respectfully, before this 
vast audience of unbelievers, and Peter, in their name, 
began to address the people. He spoke meekly and 

19* 



222 THE WORK OF THE SPIKIT. 

affectionately unto them, rehearsing in simple narrative 
what God had done for their nation and the world, in 
giving his Son to be our Saviour, and reminding them 
of the ungrateful and wicked returns they had made for 
all this love and kindness. There was little said and 
nothing done, — nothing, save the silent but fervent 
supplications which rose, meanwhile, from the hearts of 
those who were with him. But enough was said and 
done to justify the Holy Spirit in reducing three thous- 
and of that audience to the feet of Jesus. 

Again, turn to the third chapter of the same book, and 
read what is there written. It was the hour of evening 
worship, when the daily sacrifice was offered, and the 
people resorted to the temple as they had been accus- 
tomed to do for a thousand years before, and as our 
families approach the domestic altar for morning and 
evening prayer. On this occasion, too, a miracle was 
wrought, — the lame man was healed. But these were 
now common occurrences, and excited, at the most, but 
curiosity and wonder; they convinced no man of sin. 
But now the means commenced. Two men stood up, 
as before, and spoke to the people. There was no pa- 
rade ; but little was said, and yet enough was said, and 
rightly said, to warrant the interposition of the Spirit. 
The sacrifice was offered, and the assembly broke up; 
but of the multitudes who then heard the word, five 
thousand of the men believed, and went down to their 
dwellings rejoicing in God. 

Read next the story of Cornelius, recorded in the tenth 
chapter. He was concerned for the state and prospects 
of his soul; and that he might secure the counsel of 
some safe man in these weighty affairs, he sends to a 
neighboring city for a minister of Jesus. In the mean- 
time, he collected his family and friends together that 



THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 223 

they might receive the Lord's ambassador, and all be 
benefited by his instructions. Peter came and spoke to 
them of Christ; his manner of life, his doctrines, death, 
resurrection, and ascension into glory, and as he spoke 
the Holy Ghost fell on them all, and they believed and 
were baptized. Once more, read through the chapter 
that next follows, and observe by what simple methods 
and unpretending instruments the Holy Spirit spread 
his saving hand over the learned, the gay, the voluptuous 
city of Antioch. A few unlearned men from Cyprus 
and Cyrene, fleeing before the storm of persecution, had 
sought a refuge in this foreign city; but, possessing the 
spirit of Him in whose cause they suffered, they began 
to work in the quiet and modest way that became them 
as unlearned men and strangers. They spoke to the 
Grecians, and talked with them concerning Christ. But 
unpretending as were the agents, and simple and unim- 
posing the means used, they allowed free and full scope 
to the power of the Spirit. " The hand of the Lord was 
with them, and a great number believed and turned 
unto the Lord." 

Such was the way things were done in the days of 
the holy Apostles. Simplicity characterized the whole 
operation. There was nothing imposing in forms, or 
startling in measures. Truth was uttered in its simplest 
form, and prayer made to God without ceasing. But 
these were the years of the right hand of the Most High. 
The word of the Lord had free course and was glorified. 
The Holy Spirit walked the earth, like a giant, from con- 
quering to conquer. Divine grace fell like a vernal 
shower upon the earth after the desolation of winter, 
and the desert was made to rejoice. 

O, how refreshing to one's soul to turn from the 
artful contrivances of these latter days to the quiet and 



224. THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 

simplicity of apostolic times ; — times when truth and 
prayer, unaided by human artifice, were all the means 
employed to carry the cause of Christ, within the space 
of thirty years, to the utmost verge of the known world. 
In the third place, the Spirit of the Lord is not strait- 
ened in his work by his own appointed ordinances. The 
Divine Spirit has established certain institutions and 
observances, which are to be preserved and regularly 
maintained, as subsidiary to his work of grace in the 
world. He has instituted the Church, the visible family 
of Christ on the earth, the home and resting place of all 
"who are called to be saints." He has instituted the 
Sabbath, and ordained it to be a day of rest from worldly 
cares and employments ; a day for religious instruction 
and for the worship of God. He has instituted the 
ministry of the word, to be cherished and honored and 
confided in by believers, till the world is converted and 
saints " all come in the unity of the faith, and of the 
knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto 
the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ." 
He has instituted the public worship of God on the 
Sabbath and the administration of the Sacraments, 
directing us not to forsake the assembling of ourselves 
together. He has instituted discipline in his Church, 
and discipline and instruction in our families, and en- 
joined it upon the disciples to admonish, exhort, and 
reprove one another, as occasions may arise. He has 
given it in command to his Church to see to it, that the 
gospel is made known and preached to all who are des- 
titute, even to every creature under heaven. He has 
enjoined the duty of doing good to all men, and espe- 
cially to the poor and afflicted of Christ's flock. He has 
instructed us daily to search his word ; daily to call on 
his name ; asking blessings for ourselves and for all 
mankind. 



THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 225 

Now, if these ordinances should be all observed, even 
to the letter, and in the spirit of the same, would the 
Spirit of the Lord feel that his way was hedged up, or 
that something more was necessary in order that he 
should do his whole work ? He could work without us ; 
he has condescended to work with us, and made known 
the way in which he has chosen to work with us. He 
has told us what is to be done on our part, and has he 
not told us all ? Did he overlook any methods, or was 
he mistaken as to the best methods ? Nothing of this. 
Whatever his plan is, we believe that it is the best 
that is practicable ; one that gives full and free scope 
to his divine power ; that enables him to do his whole 
work, yea, and to do it with the greatest honor to him- 
self, and the greatest safety to the Church, and to the 
greatest comfort and satisfaction of his people. " Do not 
my words (my plan, my mode of operation) do good 
to him that walketh uprightly ? " 

I remark, once more, that the Holy Spirit is not strait- 
ened in his work by a permanent, local ministry in his 
churches. We are led to a brief but distinct notice of 
this point, by the studied endeavors we witness at the 
present day to disparage and undermine the pastoral 
office. This office is represented as unfavorable to revi- 
vals, and a hinderance to the work of the Spirit. The 
doctrine embraced by multitudes is, that the power of 
the Spirit accompanies only a certain class of preachers, 
styled evangelists ; that revivals are not to be expected 
under the labors of a settled pastor ; that revivals are a 
commodity imported into a church, and not a growth 
springing up in the church as in its appropriate bed, 
under stated influences and regular cultivation. 

But, to my mind, it is no less clear that the Holy Spirit 
has instituted the pastoral office than that he has insti- 



226 THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 

tuted the Church. He who called the churches into 
being, directed also that elders should be ordained in 
every church. The same Lord Jesus who has provided 
for the perpetuity of the Church, has provided also for 
the perpetuity of the office of pastor and teacher. In- 
deed, for obvious reasons, the Church is not and cannot 
be a complete and perfect organization without an office 
in it answering to a pastor or bishop. Without this it 
is in a broken and mutilated state, like the body politic 
without a government, or the human body while some 
of its important functions are in a state of paralysis. 
The office of pastor is created in and for the benefit of 
the Church; it is filled by the choice of the Church. 
He who is called to fill it is vested with certain powers 
which every orderly body must vest in its presiding 
officer for the good of the body itself, while his duties 
and responsibilities as a public religious teacher and 
pastor are all defined in that constitution which is the 
common basis of all the churches. To repudiate the 
pastoral office, then, is only the first step towards repu- 
diating the Church itself as a permanent, divine institu- 
tion. They both rest on a common basis ; both are a 
means to a common end. And let it ever be remembered 
that He who walks in the midst of the churches holds 
the stars of the churches in his right hand. So far then 
as the minister gives himself to his holy work ; so far as 
he faithfully and ably dispenses the word and doctrine 
given him for dispensation ; so far as he guards the 
liberties wherewith Christ has made his churches free, 
and seeks their unity, their growth in knowledge and 
grace, is he " to be esteemed very highly in love," and to 
be confided in as the chosen medium through which the 
Holy Spirit will pour the healthful influences of his 
grace into the bosom of his churches. And far be it 



THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 227 

from our hearts to believe that the Spirit will repudiate 
or dishonor the ministry which the Lord Jesus has or- 
dained. Far from us be the thought that the institutions 
of the gospel can be improved by the devices of men. 
Calling up to our remembrance the time when the regu- 
lar clergy, so called, an itinerant order of monks and 
friars, irresponsible to the Church, and yet ingratiating 
themselves into her confidence until they had broken 
down her stated ministry and reduced all Christendom 
to the iron rule and bondage of Papal Rome, let us 
guard against the delusion that the Spirit has discovered 
in an exotic and irresponsible ministry a new and better 
instrumentality for doing his work. 

From the subject before us, I am led to remark, in 
conclusion, 

1. That the present is preeminently the dispensation 
of the Spirit. When our Saviour would console his 
disciples under the anticipation of his death, he assures 
them that the loss they would sustain by this event 
would be more than compensated by the gift of the 
Holy Spirit that should follow. " It is expedient for you 
that I go away, for if I go not away the Comforter will 
not come to you ; but if I depart, I will send him unto 
you." Christ has gone on his triumphal way ; he is risen ; 
he is ascended unto the glory which he had with the 
Father before the world began ; and according to his 
promise the Spirit has made his public entrance into 
the Church. Zion is now, and henceforth she will be, to 
the end of the world, his peculiar abode. M Lo, I am with 
you always, even to the end of the world." He is now 
the representative of the Godhead here on earth. The 
recovery of lost men from sin and w^rath to come ; the 
keeping, the sanctification, and the comforting of the 
saints ; the protection and enlargement of the Church, 



228 THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 

are all committed to his hands. On him the whole 
Church leans for support ; he alone is her light and 
guide, her consolation and joy. He supplies her chil- 
dren with bread from his word and ordinances, and 
causes them to drink at the wells of salvation. He 
multiplies converts to her from age to age, according to 
his good pleasure, diffusing her light and glory over the 
world, and making her sons and daughters meet for the 
inheritance of the saints. What a privilege to live in 
these latter days of the world ! What motives has the 
Christian to take heed that he grieve not the Holy Spirit 
of God ! What encourgement is extended to the weary 
and heavy-laden soul! 

2. It may be expected that all truly sanctified ones 
will be submissive to the teachings of God's Spirit. 
" Do not my words do good to him that walketh up- 
rightly ? " These last words are descriptive of the true 
people of God ; of those who are created in Christ 
Jesus unto good works. Now it is a characteristic of 
such that they are not offended at the truth. However 
searching, however humiliating that truth may be to the 
natural heart, it encounters no opposition in the sanctified 
hearts of God's people. Divine grace has subdued this 
opposition, and the evidence of a gracious state within 
them lies in the fact that their hearts are brought into 
harmony with the truth. The words of God, the teach- 
ings of His Spirit, do them good ; they are comforting 
and encouraging words to their souls. They are pre- 
cisely the truths that suit the cravings of their minds ; 
that stir them up to the lively exercise of love and hope ; 
of prayer and praise ; that encourage them in self-denial 
and in all duties, and prompt them to hold on to the end. 
And they see no good reasons why others should receive 
offence from these truths, neither do they apprehend any 



THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 229 

danger from a plain and undisguised exhibition of them. 
They are good to themselves, and they see not why they 
may not do good to others. They are what the Spirit 
teaches ; they have strengthened the Church and edified 
believers in all past ages, and they see not why they 
should not henceforth be the wisdom and power of God 
unto salvation. 

3. We see how important that the Church carefully 
study the mind of the Spirit in all their endeavors to 
promote the kingdom of Christ, and be content in all 
things to follow his leadings. It is their privilege to be 
co-workers with God ; at the same time it is in their 
power to grieve the Holy Spirit and thus to expose their 
own fields to be cursed with spiritual drought and ster- 
ility. Let them consider then that it is their part to 
follow, not to lead. Let them remember that the Spirit 
works by the truth and in answer to prayer ; and that if 
they would admire his stately goings, they must be 
valiant for the truth as revealed in his word, and give 
themselves unto prayer. Let them not forget that the 
Holy Spirit is a jealous Spirit, and those who walk in 
pride he is able to abase. 

Finally, our subject addresses itself to the unconverted 

sinner. It teaches him that there is a work to be wrought 

on his soul, to which he himself is naturally disinclined 

and for which he is dependent on the Spirit of God. 

This work, we have seen, must be accomplished in time, 

or it will remain forever undone. Consider, O sinner, 

that this work has been long neglected, long resisted on 

your part, and that the period in which it is possible to 

accomplish it is fast wasting away, and will soon expire. 

" My Spirit shall not always strive with man." Your 

opportunities, your calls and warnings have been many ; 

but hitherto you have hardened your heart against the 
20 



280 THE WORK OF THE SPIRIT. 

strivings of the Holy Spirit. You have a heart that is 
enmity against God ; by nature, you are a child of 
wrath, and the only hope that can be entertained for you 
springs from the sovereign mercy of God. And to that 
mercy you must flee, or be lost forever. The work of 
the Spirit is to save you from your sins. You must give 
up your opposition to the holy and sovereign will of 
God, and from an honest and good heart acquiesce in 
his word. I know of no other way to save a sinner. I 
know not how otherwise even the Holy Spirit can save 
you from the wrath to come. And do you fear to ap- 
proach the Holy Spirit of God? Are you in doubt 
whether he will listen to your cry and grant you the help 
which you need ? Listen to the grateful, the cheering 
words of the Spirit, — words that are recorded in the last 
book and the last chapter of Revelation, — words that 
form almost the last sentence which the Holy Ghost has 
spoken to man. " The Spirit and the Bride say come ; 
let him that is athirst come ; and whosoever will, let 
him come and take the water of life freely." Take this 
invitation in your hand, O sinner, and go to him who 
works all our works in us, and you shall in no wise be 
cast out. 



SERMON YIL 



A SELFISH RELIGION. 



" THEN SATAN ANSWERED THE LORD, AND SAID, DOTH JOB FEAB. GOD FOE 
NOUGHT? " — Job i. 9.1 

This chapter presents us with a dramatic scene 
that is alike remarkable for its argument and for the 
personages that conduct the dialogue. The speakers 
are the Most High God and Satan ; the one the repre- 
sentative of all good, and the other of all evil. The 
occasion that brought such opposite characters together 
is related as follows : " There was a day when the sons 
of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and 
Satan came also among them." Seeing his old adver- 
sary in the seat which he once filled, glorious above all 
the rest, as the evening star when it sheds its joyous 
light on the western heavens, God condescended to 
speak to him, as in the days of his innocence, asking 
him whence he came, and what the manner of his life. 
The other replied that he was a wandering spirit, " going 
to and fro in the earth, and walking up and down in it." 
Perceiving that his chosen abode was on the earth, and 
among the sons of men, God asks him about his servant 
Job, and what his thoughts were concerning him : " Hast 

1 1843. 



232 A SELFISH RELIGION. 

thou considered my servant Job, that there is none 
like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, 
one that feareth God and escheweth evil ? Then Satan 
answered the Lord and said, doth Job fear God for 
nought ? " 

The subject here propounded for argument between 
two personages, — the one exalted by his uncreated and 
glorious perfections, and the other formidable by the 
greatest intellectual gifts ever bestowed on the crea- 
ture, — the subject propounded was one of the high and 
essential truths of divinity. The question involved was, 
in what does moral excellence, or true holiness, consist ; 
and is such excellence to be found among men ? This 
question was to be solved by an appeal to an existing 
case, that would serve to prove and illustrate both its 
parts at once. Among the sons of men there was one 
individual who was selected of God to test the point at 
issue. He was a man so eminent on the earth that his 
fame sounded through many countries, and was familiar 
to the ears of princes ; and Satan, " who goes to and fro 
in the earth," had not overlooked him, but had known 
and considered him well. Now, says the Most High, is 
not this true and divine excellence to be found in this 
my servant ? Satan concedes that Job had the appear- 
ance of being all that God had described him, " a perfect 
and an upright man, and one that feareth God and 
escheweth evil;" but he contends that the essential 
feature of moral excellence is not to be found in him. 
" Does he fear God for nought ? " In other words, the 
religion of Job is a selfish religion ; it proceeds from a 
low and unworthy motive, and therefore it is essentially 
defective. He has his price for fearing God, and it is 
because he is now receiving this price, or hopes to receive 
it hereafter, that he is so scrupulous and diligent in serv- 



A SELFISH RELIGION. 233 

ing his Maker. " For," says Satan, " hast thou not 
made a hedge," a line of defence, " about him and 
about his house, and about all that he has on every side ? 
Thou hast blessed the work of his hands, and his sub- 
stance is increased in the land ; but put forth thine hand 
now, and touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee 
to thy face." 

The doctrine, then, which Satan maintains, — and his 
divinity he learned in heaven, in daily and nightly 
studies at the oracle of God, — his doctrine is, that a 
selfish serving of God is no true and acceptable service. 
If there be not a higher principle than self, and one that 
is the exact opposite of self, which generates and nour- 
ishes the religion of the soul and of the life, then such a 
religion is radically unsound, and in the sight of God 
can be regarded only as a refinement of the sordid, 
innate, and pervading profanity of the heart. 

This we admit is high divinity for any being to main- 
tain ; but when we consider that it is one of those living 
principles of truth which was imbibed at the foot of 
God's throne in heaven, and was so deeply imprinted on 
the mind of an archangel that even the fall could not 
erase the impression; and, finally, that it was a truth 
which God himself recognized, in consenting to put the 
religion of his servant to the test, and thereby to ascer- 
tain whether it was selfish or not. When we consider 
all these things, we are driven into the concession that 
on this point, at least, the creed of Satan is orthodox, 
and deserves the most serious consideration of men on 
the earth. 

"Doth Job fear God for nought?" Has he not a 
private and selfish end that he is pursuing in all his 
show of religion ? Does not his religion begin and 
grow just where all sin and depravity take their rise, in 

20* 



234 A SELFISH RELIGION. 

the native predominant selfishness of the heart? In 
all that he does, is he not earning his price, working for 
a personal reward? Is not the ground-motive, the spring 
of all his religion, a preeminent regard for his own 
security and happiness, and not for what is essentially 
right and just and good and for the glory of God ? 

The result of the trial, in the case of Job, proved 
indeed that Satan, keen and penetrating as is his intel- 
lectual vision, can not possess himself of all the secrets 
of the human heart, and that, for once at least, his most 
subtle inquiries were baffled. But this mistake did not 
affect the soundness of. his divinity. The doctrine that 
a merely selfish religion is no true religion remained a 
sound doctrine still, although, contrary to Satan's expec- 
tations, it turned out that Job had a religion of a far 
higher order than this ; a religion from which he could 
not turn and " curse God to Ms face," even though sur- 
rounded with the ruins of his wealth, the mangled and 
lifeless bodies of all his children, himself the victim of 
disease and beggary and despair, the reproach of his 
friends and the taunt of envious fools. His religion 
was an essential property of his very soul ; the life of 
God entered into it, and transforming it from the image 
of the earthly into that of the heavenly, — a power 
working mightily within him, and thus reducing to 
obedience to the law of Christ every thought and every 
passion, and under the influence of which he could calmly 
say, in the midst of sudden and utter desolation of all 
creative good, " though he slay me, yet will I trust him." 
" He is my Father, my glorious God, the joy and confi- 
dence of my heart, and though his righteous purpose be 
to crush me and mine, yet I will cleave to him while I 
have any being." Yea, his was that true excellence 
which commended itself even to Satan, as originating 



A SELFISH RELIGION. 235 

in a divine principle, even that principle of holy love 
" which seeketh not his own." 

Two inquiries, then, are naturally suggested by the 
text for our consideration: first, What may be denomi- 
nated a selfish religion? and second, Wherein is such a 
religion defective ? 

I. What may be denominated a selfish religion ? 

Here I must be permitted to remark, that we are not 
to suppose that, strictly speaking, there can be more 
than one kind of religion. True religion is pure and 
undefiled before God, even the Father ; all else, what- 
ever the appearance may be, is only religion " falsely so 
called," and is at the bottom unsound and delusive. 

Again I would remark, that true religion is a charac- 
ter, an abiding aspect of the soul, and not a mood or a 
humor. And here is a distinction so obvious and so 
important, that even a child is competent to apprehend 
and to appreciate it. That child has a fond and indul- 
gent father ; this is his character, — the steadfast disposi- 
tion and habit of his mind ; but that same father is 
sometimes peevish and passionate, and these are his 
moods and humors ; and the child is quick to discern 
when they are on and when off, and the possession of 
this secret gives him a power over the parent which he 
wields, at times, with great dexterity and effect. 

Every man has many moods ; but no one has more 
than one character. His character is that by which he 
is known and appreciated ; for it is that abiding aspect 
under which he appears when the gushes of feeling and 
passion have given place to the steady and quiet opera- 
tion of the steadfast principle and habit of his soul. 
Now, we say that religion is a character, and not a mood ; 
it is the abiding aspect under which the man appears 
when he is properly himself, and not a humor, — a fitful, 



236 A SELFISH RELIGION. 

temporary gust that passes over the man, and which, for 
the honor of human nature we say it, forms as little of 
the true character of the man as the fleeting clouds and 
puffing squalls of spring-time form a part of the deep 
blue sky that reposes tranquilly above them. 

Furthermore, true religion is founded in principle. 
This principle the Saviour denominates " the leaven 
that leavens the whole lump." The apostle John terms 
it " the seed " that remaineth in those that are born of 
God, so that " they cannot sin." Another apostle styles 
it " the engrafted word," and all of them designate it by 
the familiar word grace. It is called a principle, not 
only because it is the beginning of a religious state in 
the soul, but the living, stedfast root which sustains and 
cherishes this state. Religion of course embraces feel- 
ings and emotions ; but it is not made up of feelings 
and emotions, for the reason that these are transitory, 
whereas religion is abiding. " If ye have my word abid- 
ing in you, then are ye my disciples indeed." The true 
element of religion is deeper than mere feeling, and the 
office of religious feeling seems to be to indicate the 
existence of the principle, and to show its nature and 
strength. 

If, then, the basis of true religion is an abiding, liv- 
ing principle in the heart, the question arises, What is 
the character of this principle ? Is it a selfish principle 
or is it something else ? All men admit of a principle 
of selfishness in the human heart, a pervading, inborn 
propensity to make our own interest the ultimate end of 
pursuit. " Man is a selfish being," is a saying which 
all understand, and the truth of which is conceded by 
all; and the import of this saying is not merely that 
men occasionally fall into a selfish humor, that they 
have at times fits and feelings of selfishness, but that a 



A SELFISH RELIGION. 237 

self-seeking spirit inheres in them ; that we always expect 
to find it in men, and in reference to which we are com- 
pelled at all times to make our calculations : a spirit, in 
short, so incorrigible and so subtle, that the most ingen- 
uous mind finds never-ceasing occasion to suspect its 
presence, and to resist its power within himself. Now, 
the question is, Can this principle be the foundation and 
source of true religion ? In other words, Can man in 
his religion be selfish in the same sense that he is selfish 
in the pursuit of riches, honor, or pleasure ? In answer 
to this it should seem that all men would say, " No; even 
Satan could maintain that a merely selfish religion was 
no religion at all." 

But the question comes back, When does religion show 
itself to be selfish ? We answer, that our religion is 
selfish when it seeks its highest end in self. If our chief 
end is to honor ourselves by our religion, is to make our- 
selves happy by our religion, or indeed, if our object 
is merely to save our souls from eternal misery by our 
religion, then is our religion selfish. It is used as a 
convenient instrument for securing a private end; of 
gratifying some circumscribed claim, or allaying some 
private fear of the heart, and is therefore selfish. For 
instance, I feel myself, from some cause or other, to be a 
very unhappy and miserable man ; all my prospects for 
life are overcast; kindnesses and cares, friends and ene- 
mies, all alike disquiet and trouble me, and nothing 
administers peace. But I am told that religion will 
cure it all, and make me a happy man. I take the 
advice, resolve to lay my troubles at the door of this 
kind physician and devote myself to duties and self- 
denials. My object is to get rid of my troubles and pro- 
vide comfort for my soul ; an object that I never lose 
sight of, and the influence of which girds me with 



238 A SELFISH RELIGION. 

strength and patience in all my endeavors. I adopt a 
religious life because it is the only remedy for my trou- 
bles ; in other words, my religion seeks its end in self 
and of course it is like its end, selfish. Again, I know 
myself to be a sinner ; " for there is not a just man on the 
earth that doeth good and sinneth not," and, moreover, I 
know that the penalty of sin is the loss of the soul, 
and hence I am daily distressed with thoughts of eternal 
misery. But religion, I am told, is the remedy for this 
evil ; it will deliver the soul from death and secure for 
it eternal happiness and glory in heaven ; hence I resolve 
to be religious. I submit to religious crosses for the sake 
of an unspeakable good in prospect ; just as a worldly 
man submits to toil and privation in the hope of acquir- 
ing riches and fame. Self in both cases is the chief 
end ; and the means in both cases, being the same with 
the end sought, is also selfish. These examples, I con- 
ceive, will illustrate the meaning of the expression in 
the text, "Does he fear God for nought?" In other 
words, they show us what a merely selfish religion is. 
It is a set of duties taken up, or crosses submitted to, 
because they are conducive to our peace in this life, or 
to our salvation hereafter. The end is personal; we 
look no further than our own interests ; we serve for a 
prize and a reward, as Satan represents Job to have 
done ; we submit to a task in expectation that God will 
pay us for it, and for the sake of the pay ; and this 
surely must be a religion of selfishness. Religion in 
this case is submitted to for the good it promises, not 
embraced as being in itself the highest possible good ; 
we treat the whole affair as a bargain we make with 
God, rather than as a duty we owe Him, irrespective of 
the good or evil that may follow in its train. Sin is 
resisted, not because it is exceedingly wrong and odious, 



A SELFISH RELIGION. 239 

but because it is an avenger, and will surely find us out. 
God is loved not because He is infinitely lovely, but be- 
cause He is necessary to our safety and happiness. It 
is, as before remarked, a serving of God with a view to 
the prize, and with no other reference but to the reward. 
" Does Job fear God for nought ? " But we are led for- 
ward to the other question. 

II. Wherein is this religion defective ? 

1. It is defective, in the first place, because it merges 
the Creator in the creature. Instead of exalting God 
as " the all and in all," the end of all things as well as 
the beginning, it reduces Him to the humble station of 
a servant to the creature He has made. The heart is 
not given to religion because of its exceeding beauty 
and excellence and truth, and from an inward, con- 
straining force ; but from a sense of interest. It is not 
the soul lifted up to God in wonder and delight as its 
all-glorious, all-sufficient portion, but God brought down 
from his high and holy place to do service for our good. 
The creature's happiness is the chief end ; and God and 
religion are regarded only as the necessary means of 
securing this end. And what is this but merging the 
Creator in the creature, and making not the glory of 
God the end of our being, but our private present good 
the end of God's being. 

2. This sort of religion is defective because it fails to 
answer the demands of conscience. No man's conscience 
can be satisfied with a religion that is merely selfish. 
Conscience requires a religion that is the fulfilment of a 
duty, not of a bargain. It recognizes a moral obligation 
on our part to fear and serve God ; an obligation that is 
perfect in itself irrespective of the good or the evil that 
may flow from our discharging or neglecting to dis- 
charge it. Were there no heaven and no hell revealed, 



240 A SELFISH RELIGION. 

there is still that within us whose voice, in distinct and 
audible tones, wou]d respond to the law of our Maker 
and say, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all 
thy heart." God is worthy of engrossing the thoughts 
and affections ; worthy to be loved on His own account, 
for the high, unutterable glories of his own nature ; and 
unless He be loved for what He is in Himself, then is 
He loved only as a means to a selfish end, and therefore 
is not truly loved at all. These are the teachings, the 
loud and authoritative teachings of every man's con- 
science. The conscience even of Satan could not re- 
spect a religion that began and ended in self. He spoke 
disparagingly and contemptuously of the religion of 
Job, because he suspected it was selfish, and therefore 
concluded it was unsound. It was not that religion 
which he had known in his better days, and among the 
sons of God. And shall man in a state of probation 
and misery, with the light of God's word to guide his 
inquiries, and with the eternal destiny of his soul hang- 
ing son the issue, remain satisfied with a religion which 
cannot answer the conscience even of the Prince of 
darkness. 

3. A religion that is purely selfish would fill the world 
with derision and strife, and this shows the unsoundness 
of its nature. No man can be ignorant of the fearful 
and pernicious tendency of a selfish principle. It is the 
source from which flow all the bitter waters that afflict 
the world. The derisions and strifes, the proud, oppres- 
sive acts of violence and vengeance, and the wars that 
have scourged the miserable race of men, are the legiti- 
mate offspring of that innate tendency in every man's 
bosom to set up his own will and interest against the 
right and happiness of all the world. And a selfish 
principle is an evil principle, and only evil, wherever 



A SELFISH RELIGION. 241 

found. Adopt it as a religious principle and its effects 
on the harmony and happiness of the world will be the 
same. It matters not whether a man serves God from 
selfishness, or the world from selfishness ; he will find that 
his self will clash with every other man's self, and that 
his interest can be secured only at the expense of all the 
rest. In a world where the selfish principle predomi- 
nates, general harmony and peace are out of the ques- 
tion ; they are blessings to be desired, not realized. And 
can a religion that yields such bitter fruits of discord 
and strife and hatred be divine ? What can any religion, 
considered as a remedial measure, be desired for, but to 
expose, subdue, and finally exterminate such an evil 
power from the family of God. 

4. Once more, a religion that is purely selfish is a 
religion of nature, not of grace. It implies no change of 
the heart as its foundation, and consequently requires 
no interposition or aid from the Holy Spirit. All that 
is needful to form and perfect such a religion is to give 
a new direction to the selfish principle that is innate 
and predominant in the natural heart. Heretofore this 
principle sought present happiness by worldly means ; 
now it pursues eternal happiness by religious means. 
The working principle remains the same; the end 
sought essentially the same ; that is, it is selfish ; the 
only change is in the means. And if selfishness is only 
another name for depravity, then a selfish religion is only 
depravity under a mask. The fountain from which it 
proceeds is that out of which issue " evil thoughts " and 
all " the works of the flesh." It is not a religion that 
purifies the heart, because it is built upon and sustained 
by our merely earthly nature, and that, too, a nature 
depraved. It is not a religion that lifts the soul to God 
and makes it like God, because it is of the earth and 
21 



242 A SELFISH RELIGION. 

therefore earthy ; because the principle that pervades it 
is that " of enmity against God." 

Such is a religion that is purely selfish ; a religion that 
finds its end in self and not in God. It is a religion 
which God abhors, and for which even Satan can feel no 
respect. That this, and this only, is the religion which 
many in this world possess there is too much reason to 
fear. It is embraced, or rather submitted to, as a remedy 
for present fears and distress ; as a preventive to that 
eternal misery which awaits the irreligious, and on this 
ground and for this reason it is cherished. They choose 
religion because religion makes them happy. And as 
they degrade the uses and ends of religion, so they let 
down also the high and divine nature and dignity of the 
thing itself. Instead of regarding it as that new birth, 
in which a divine life begins in the soul that was before 
"dead in sin;" instead of viewing it as a regeneration, 
in which " the old man is crucified with its affections 
and lusts," and " all things made new in Christ Jesus ;" 
they look upon it as a mere transition from a sad and 
gloomy state into one that is peaceful and joyous. It 
is not a turning from sin as exceedingly sinful, and a 
cleaving of the soul to God as infinitely glorious because 
infinitely holy ; but it is taking up fashionable crosses 
and submitting to prescribed duties for the sake of the 
comfort which they are taught to believe will follow. 
And when you ask them the reason of the hope that is 
in them, their answer is, " O we are so happy now, and 
everything looks so happy, and such bliss and glory 
awaits us when we die." 

A few reflections suggest themselves from the subject 
before us, to which I would call your attention before I 
close. 

1. If a selfish religion is radically unsound, and there 
fore unsafe, then great caution becomes us in scrutinizing 



A SELFISH RELIGION 243 

the hopes we cherish. " Hope on, and hope ever," it is 
to be feared, is a maxim too nearly attuned to much of 
the religious instruction of the day. But alas! " There 
is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end 
thereof is death/' There is a religion which the heart 
loves and cleaves unto with a fatal grasp, but which 
God abhors and even Satan despises. What delusions 
may not a wicked, selfish, and treacherous heart practise 
upon us. Surely, then, it becomes us all to keep a 
wakeful and jealous eye on the workings of our own 
hearts, to scrutinize the dark as well as the bright side 
of our experience, and see to it that on our hearts is 
shed abroad, by the Holy Ghost, that love " which seek- 
eth not her own." Sad must it be for the soul, if its 
religion proves at the last to be only such as Satan 
himself will make a mock of. 

2. Our subject reveals the nature and necessity of 
regeneration. That religion which is according to the 
word of God, and which is unto salvation, is a religion 
of grace. It begins in grace, is cherished by grace, is 
perfected by grace. " By the grace of God I am what 
I am," is the devout and joyful expression, not only of 
the great apostle on earth, but of all the redeemed in 
glory. On the other hand, the religion of nature is a 
selfish religion, a religion that begins and ends in self. 
God is recognized in it only as a necessary means to a 
higher end, — the safety and glory of the creature. To 
regenerate a man, then, is to impart to him a religion 
that is opposed to nature ; it is to rescue him from the 
control of a selfish, and bring him into subjection to a 
gracious principle, which " seeketh not her own ; it is to 
subvert within him the vile and degrading power that 
holds the world in bondage, and to teach him to find an 
object for his affections and the end of his being out of 
himself and in the glorious God that made him. This 



244 A SELFISH RELIGION. 

is the nature of regeneration ; and to know its nature is 
to feel its necessity. A selfish religion is rejected by 
the conscience of every man ; it is the scorn of Satan. 
Marvel not, then, O man, at the truth, "Ye must be 
born again." " Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a 
man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." 

Finally, this subject suggests some important hints to 
guide ministers and churches in their endeavors for the 
salvation of men. Selfishness is not the cause or the 
occasion of man's salvation, but of his ruin. It first 
alienated the soul from God, and taught man to make a 
god of himself. It is the evil power that now holds the 
sons of men in bondage to their vile affections and 
lusts. It is the carnality, of the mind, "which is enmity 
against God." It repels the approach of divine grace, 
that would liberate the soul and restore it to God. And 
the great question to be considered is, How shall this 
fearful power be dislodged, and its miserable subjects led 
forth from this prison-house into the liberty of the sons 
of God ? Appeals may be made to it, to abdicate and 
let the sons of bondage go free; but this only stimulates 
its vigilance to guard its throne the more securely. By 
a little dexterity we may divert it from its accustomed 
channels, and teach it to submit to the duties and crosses 
of religion, but it is still selfishness, " enmity against 
God," and the religion it fosters is a religion of nature, 
and serves to drown the soul in destruction and perdi- 
tion. Of what possible avail, then, are all our alliances 
with a principle that is only evil, and that continually. 
Self will never be persuaded to repudiate self, or be 
cajoled into an act of self-destruction. 

But there is an antagonist power to this wicked spirit 
in high places. Grace is that power, and the doctrines 
of grace the weapons of its triumphant warfare. These 



A SELFISH RELIGION. 245 

weapons, keen and bright, must be brought forth from 
the armory of God, and the strongholds of selfishness 
assailed. His presence and dominion in the soul must 
be loudly proclaimed, his manifold wiles and subtleties 
boldly exposed, and the warning note, loud and solemn, 
rung in the sinner's ear, to come out from beneath the 
feet of the sorcerer, lest he be partaker in his plagues. 
God, most holy in his perfections ; most righteous in his 
claims ; jealous of his honor ; glorious in his sovereignty ; 
God, of purer eyes than to behold sin, and who will by 
no means clear the guilty, — are truths that must not be 
concealed, unless we would rivet the chains that now 
bind the victims of a selfish principle. Sin, too, as 
"exceedingly sinful"; sinners, the voluntary slaves of 
vile idolatry ; conversion, as a hearty renunciation of 
self for God ; Christ, as saving his people from their 
sins; and religion, as a life of God in the soul, — these, 
under God, are the doctrines before which lofty imagina- 
tions, and every high thing that exalteth itself against 
God, are cast down, and by which every thought is 
brought into captivity to the law of Christ. These, my 
beloved brethren, are the themes to engage our nightly 
studies, and on which our most earnest tones are to be 
heard in the sanctuary ; these are the topics to be restored 
to our conference rooms and to our domestic circles, 
if we aspire to the honored instrumentality of turning 
sinners to righteousness, and making them meet for the 
inheritance of the saints in light. 

A selfish religion, — we say it, brethren, in all charity 
towards the household of God, — a selfish religion, it is 
to be feared, has in these latter days insinuated itself 
into the church of Christ, — a religion that reverses the 
settled order of creation, making the creature and his 

good the chief end of all things, and God and his glory 
21* 



246 A SELFISH RELIGION. 

a necessary means to that end. Listen to the instruc- 
tions of the pulpit, and how unreserved, how reiterated, 
how thrilling its appeals to the selfish principle ! How 
unblushingly is religion, that great temple of truth and 
love and purity, radiant with its own essential and eter- 
nal glory, and to be admired for its own loveliness, — 
how is it degraded into a mere vehicle to convey poor 
abject creatures from a state of misery to one of happi- 
ness! Our ministry and churches, in former times, 
recoiled from the heresy of the gifted Paley, who, in his 
system of morals, has defined virtue to be " obedience to 
the will of God for the sake of everlasting happiness." 

But has not this heresy in morals long since become 
sound orthodoxy in the divinity of the pulpit ? What, 
at this day, is deemed necessary, in the opinion of multi- 
tudes, to initiate and bear along to glorious success a 
revival of religion, "out just to stimulate and then skil- 
fully direct the selfish propensities in man ? But I 
forbear. 

Heaven, my brethren, is now and ever will be what 
it was in that day of high antiquity, when Satan, a tall 
archangel, bowed his knee before the throne of his 
Maker, and imbibed those truths which " wake to per- 
ish never," a world into which sin, and therefore selfish- 
ness, do never enter. Be it our concern, then, as we 
shall answer to him who careth for souls, to declare the 
whole counsel of God, whether men hear or forbear. 

Truth, rightly divided, is an exterminating sword to 
the selfishness of the heart. Hold it forth in its native 
lustre and power, and when sinners are converted they 
will be converted to God. Hold it forth, and the churches 
will awake to righteousness. Hold it forth in the love 
of it, and when the Chief Shepherd shall appear, we 
shall appear with him in glory. 



SERMON VIII. 



CONSCIENCE. 



" BUT STRONG MEAT BELONGETH TO THEM THAT ARE OF FULL AGE, EVEN TO 
THOSE WHO BY REASON OF USE HAVE THEIR SENSES EXERCISED TO DISCERN 
BOTH GOOD AND EVIL." — Hcb. V. 14.1 



The apostle is here treating of the right method of 
guiding the mind to an understanding of spiritual 
things, and to illustrate his idea he adverts to the obvi- 
ous analogy in the outward and inner state of man. 
The human body, like every other thing which has life, 
is subject to the law of growth and development. At 
first it is small and feeble; it needs to be borne in the 
arms of another, and then to be guided by the hand. 
Years are required to rear it up to the stature and firm- 
ness, and to endue it with the skill, of perfect manhood. 
There is, moreover, a singular feature of the animal 
economy which obtains also in relation to the human 
body, namely, that certain organs of essential use in 
the more mature stages of its growth are at first but im- 
perfectly, or not at all, developed. By this circumstance 
nature herself indicates not only the degree of care 
which these bodies need in their tender state, but also 
the kind of nutriment which is proper for them in their 
progressive stages. So long as the mouth of the infant 



1 1846. 



248 CONSCIENCE. 

is unsupplied with teeth, we are admonished that meat 
and other kinds of solid food are not the appropriate 
means of its nourishment. Now, from the teaching of 
nature in regard to the physical structure of man, the 
Apostle derives a rule to guide us in nurturing and train- 
ing the spiritual constitution of man. In this, as in 
the other case, we are to suit our means to the state and 
progress of the subject. The mind has its infancy as 
well as the body, — a state in which all its faculties are 
at the best feeble, and some of them in a latent and 
undeveloped state. Like the body, it needs to be nour- 
ished and strengthened by food and exercise ; and these, 
both in kind and degree, must be suited to its present 
state and capacity. To attempt to administer to the 
infant mind what is suited only to the mind in its more 
perfect state, would be as preposterous as to attempt 
to nourish the infant body on the strong meat which 
belongeth to the full grown man. 

Moreover, the apostle carries his illustration one step 
further, and employs it in elucidating the method by 
which the truths of revelation are to be imparted to the 
believing mind, and the spiritual life of the soul nour- 
ished up to the stature of the perfect man in Christ 
Jesus. This life, like that of the body and also of the 
mind, has its incipient, its infant state ; and there is 
food in the storehouse of God's word suited to this 
state. The young and inexperienced believer is to be 
treated after the same rule which guides us in adminis- 
tering to the wants of the infant body. We are not to 
tax its feeble powers with what is unsuited to its stage 
of development, and what at present it is unable to 
digest. Things that are the most simple are first to be 
exhibited, and when these are fully digested and assimi- 
lated to the wants of the new life, and strength is thereby 



CONSCIENCE. 249 

administered, then may we with profit exhibit those that 
are higher and of more difficult apprehension. This is 
the order that Nature indicates in her works, and the 
same which the apostle adopts in building up the life of 
God in the soul. They were believers of a juvenile 
growth whom he addresses in the context, and he assigns 
this as the reason for diverting his remarks from the 
theme on which he was discoursing to one less difficult 
of apprehension : " Of whom we have many things to 
say, and hard to be uttered (difficult to be expressed in 
language intelligible to you), seeing ye are dull of hear- 
ing. For when for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye 
have need that one teach you again, which be the first 
principles of the oracles of God, and are become such 
as have need of milk, and not of strong meat." There 
is an intimation in these words that a wrong method 
had been pursued with the disciples ; that they had not 
mastered first principles before they proceeded to higher 
ones, and hence they needed to be brought back, and 
led over the ground again. They were in the condition 
of children who had been taught to think that they were 
men, and been put forward to the studies and exercises 
of men, to the neglect of those which became their age, 
and without which they would remain children in under- 
standing and knowledge. Even though they were of 
years enough to become teachers, " For every one that 
useth milk is unskilful in the word of righteousness," 
for he is a babe. " But strong meat belongeth to them 
that are of full age, even those who by reason of use 
have their senses exercised to discern both good and 
evil." 

From these last words we gather the following impor- 
tant truths, namely, that there is an essential and eternal 
contrariety between good and evil ; that there is a power 



250 CONSCIENCE. 

or susceptibility in every human mind to discern this 
contrariety ; that this power or susceptibility is improved 
by experience; and, lastly, that the degree of perfection 
which this power attains is in proportion to the attain- 
ment of grace in the heart, and is the best evidence of a 
gracious state. 

1. There is an essential and eternal contrariety be- 
tween good and evil. The expression " to discern both 
good and evil" manifestly implies that there is that in 
the one which distinguishes it from the other. The 
good is not seen to be evil, nor the evil to be good ; but 
the one is seen to be the opposite of the other. Again, 
no one will be at a loss to determine what kind of good 
and evil is here spoken of. The apostle is not treating 
of things which affect the bodily senses, and of course 
he cannot allude to physical good and evil. He has 
reference to things which have relation to the law of 
God as their proper test and criterion, things which are 
recognized by this law as being right or wrong, as pos- 
sessing moral excellence or moral turpitude. Now it is 
among the first things which men learn by experience, 
that some things are good and some are evil. The 
infant learns that milk is good. It is good to the taste, 
and it satisfies his hunger. He learns that fire, when 
applied to his hands, is an evil; it creates pain, and his 
experience teaches him to avoid it. As he grows older 
he becomes acquainted with another kind of good and 
evil. He sees a difference between obeying his parents 
and disobeying them, between loving his companions 
and hating them, between speaking the truth and utter- 
ing a falsehood. In this case the good and evil are not 
things which he sees or tastes or hears, but things which 
his mind feels. They are not things which create either 
pleasure or pain to his body, but which make his mind 



CONSCIENCE. 251 

happy or miserable. Of course they are in their nature 
different from the good and evil first spoken of. 

But the difference between natural good and evil is 
not perceived to be necessary ; it is purely a matter of 
arbitrary appointment on the part of the Creator. The 
difference is not eternal ; there was a time when it did 
not exist, and we can easily conceive that things might 
be so changed as that the good should become evil, and 
the evil good. We see not, except as experience has 
taught us, why fire might not nourish our bodies, and 
milk consume them, as well as the opposite to this. But 
can we conceive how the other kinds of good and evil 
should be interchanged ? Is it possible that to obey our 
parents, to love our companions, to speak the truth, can 
ever be evil, and make us feel miserable ; or that the 
opposites of these can ever be good, and make us feel 
happy ? We say, then, that the difference between these 
kinds of good and evil is a necessary and eternal con- 
trariety ; it has always been what it is now, and it will 
continue the same forever. We cannot conceive that it 
should be otherwise. This difference, then, I remark, 
does not depend on the will of God. The will of God 
recognizes the difference between good and evil, and 
harmonizes with it. His will approves of the good, and 
renounces the evil ; and it requires us moreover to recog- 
nize the difference even as he does. But there is a sense, 
we may suppose, in which this difference is independent 
of him, and is not the effect of his ordination any more 
than his own existence is the effect of his volition. He 
exists, we say, by virtue of necessity ; by virtue of a like 
necessity we say, also, right is contrary to wrong, the 
law of what is good contrary to the law of what is evil. 
The distinction between holiness and sin was in eternity 
as necessary to the mind of God as his power or wisdom 
was necessary to the perfection of his existence. 



252 CONSCIENCE. 

2. Much less does the difference between good and 
evil depend on the authority of man, or of human laws. 
This proposition we are aware, will seem to some to be 
quite unnecessary after what has been said, and yet 
perhaps it hits more practical errors than even my first 
statement. Did you never know a person decline his 
obligation to perform a certain duty merely on the 
ground that he had never given a formal promise 
that he would perform it ? And what is this but mak- 
ing his own agreement the ground of his duty, and of 
course, making the difference between good and evil to 
depend on his own will ? But how does it lessen my 
obligation to do an act of justice or mercy, that 1 have 
not promised to do the act ? Again, did you never know 
a person refuse to pay a debt that had become outlawed, 
even when he was abundantly able to pay it ? Did you 
never know a man strive to overreach his neighbor, in a 
case in which the law of the land did not reach ; or seek 
to avoid a fair contract by availing himself of some flaw 
in the instrument, or of the want of a witness ? Now 
these, and a hundred like cases, presuppose that there is 
no obligation resting upon men other than what the 
law of the land imposes ; that there is no difference 
between right and wrong save what that law creates. 
I am right if the law bears me out; he is wrong who 
cannot bring the law to support him. Yes, the law of 
man is the foundation and touch-stone of a great deal 
of this world's morality. Men do not seem to recog- 
nize, so gross have their hearts become by reason of 
sin, that great moral government of the eternal God, 
in which all human laws and government are swal- 
lowed up and lost, like the light of the taper in the 
beams of the noon-day sun. They consider not that 
truth and falsehood, honesty and fraud, are necessarily 



CONSCIENCE. 253 

and eternally contrary to each other in nature, and no 
law of man can make it otherwise. They consider not 
that what is innocent, that is, unpunishable under human 
law, may be damnable sin in the eye of an eternal law, 
and that it is the height of presumption to expect that 
because we have escaped here we shall also escape at a 
higher tribunal. 

3. There is a power or susceptibility in every human 
mind to discern this contrariety between good and evil. 
The apostle speaks of senses to discern both good and 
evil. Now a sense is distinguishable from an acquire- 
ment or a habit, inasmuch as one is a part of the human 
constitution, and the other is the result of experience. 
A man by habit or long use is enabled to make nice dis- 
tinctions between the colors and relative distances of ob- 
jects ; but no man by habit acquires the power of seeing. 
Seeing comes first and habit afterwards. Sight depends 
on one of the senses of the human body, an organ 
that is necessary to the perfect structure of the system. 
Now it is readily admitted that the word " senses," in our 
text, does not mean our outward senses, for it is not the 
office of these organs to receive impressions from moral 
objects. The word applies to an organ of the mind, 
some susceptibility which it has, suited to discern the 
nature of moral and spiritual things. It is called a 
sense, because it receives impressions from things with- 
out itself, and because it is an organ that is essential to 
a properly constructed mind. Man does not acquire it 
any more than he acquires an outward sense, as that of 
seeing or hearing. It is organic, that is, a necessary 
property or function of the mind. In other places it 
is called by the same apostle, conscience : " their con- 
sciences meanwhile accusing or else excusing one 
another ; " " their conscience being seared, as with a 
22 



254 CONSCIENCE, 

hot iron." These last words imply the same thing 
that is expressed in the text, that conscience is organic, 
something that may suffer violence or injury ; it may be 
seared, even like the skin when a hot iron or burning 
coals are applied to it. And it is worthy of notice that 
in this use of terms there is a singular but undesigned 
coincidence between the apostle and the most eminent 
ethical writers of modern times. These writers employ 
both terms, "conscience" and "moral sense," to denote a 
certain susceptibility of the mind to distinguish between 
what is morally good and what is morally evil. 

The idea that conscience is a mere opinion, as likely, 
perhaps, to be wrong as right, — an opinion subject to 
all the influences that affect opinions on other matters, 
and of course as different in different individuals as are 
the opinions of the same individuals on other subjects, — 
such an idea receives no support from the apostle. He 
makes the test of moral actions the same in kind with 
the test of visible objects. In both cases it is a sense, 
an organic susceptibility. It belongs to one as truly as 
it belongs to another ; just as all men have the same set 
of bodily senses, though use and experience may make 
them more perfect in one than in another. And we 
cannot well conceive how it should have been other- 
wise, if man was intended to be an accountable being. 
How was he to know what was right and what was 
wrong, when he might hope to be approved of God, or 
when he had reason to fear his displeasure, unless he 
were furnished by his constitution with some adequate 
guide ? If man was intended for the outer world, to be 
conversant with material objects, it would be in accord- 
ance with reason that he should be fitted by the provis- 
ions of his nature for that state. How could he preserve 
himself for a single day, without sight or feeling or hear- 



CONSCIENCE. 255 

ing to guide him? If he were left in this mutilated 
state to depend on experience, he must inevitably per- 
ish before experience could be brought to his aid. And 
with no less difficulties would a moral being be sur- 
rounded, without a sense to enable him to discern both 
the good and the evil. Nay, without it, as an original 
part of his very constitution, we cannot see how experi- 
ence or instruction could avail him. Without sight the 
mind can form no just idea of light or colors. No 
description of the objects could impart such an idea to 
him, and for the reason that there is not in his being a 
foundation to receive such an idea. And, for the same 
reason, we may ask, how could one who was not an 
accountable being, by creation, ever become one ? How 
could an idea of good or evil ever be imparted to him 
without a sense to receive it? Every other power of 
the mind might be perfect, yet without a conscience he 
could never appreciate the difference between holiness 
and sin, any more than without an eye he could appre- 
ciate the difference between opposite colors, though 
every other sense of the body were in a perfect state. 
Reason, then, confirms the statement of the apostle, that 
the mind of man is supplied with a sense to discern 
both good and evil, and to feel the difference there is 
between them. It is this gift that makes man an ac- 
countable being. It is his conscience that occasions his 
obligation to be a good man ; it is this that makes him 
a subject of moral government. He is capable, by 
nature, of feeling that there is such a thing as right and 
such a thing as wrong, and this capacity brings him 
within the authority of all that is right and true and 
holy, and subjects him to the consequences of disregard 
ing the monitions of this power within. I repeat it, it 
is not because he has the Bible to instruct him, it is not 



256 CONSCIENCE. 

because God has commanded it, it is not because he has 
received life and mercies innumerable at the hand of 
God, though these may increase his obligations ; it 
is not these that impose the duty on him to hate sin and 
be a holy man. His obligations are derived from the 
fact that he has a conscience, and though God had not 
commanded, nor one mercy from the throne had reached 
him, he would still be a self-condemned, miserable man, 
if conscience were not heeded and obeyed. 

4. The power or susceptibility of the mind to dis- 
cern between good and evil is improved by experience. 
Hence the apostle says of those who had grown up to 
the stature of men in the things of Christ, and had exer- 
cised themselves unto godliness, that they had improved 
this power of moral discernment in a corresponding 
degree. " But strong meat belongeth to them that are 
of full age, even those who by reason of use have their 
senses exercised to discern both good and evil." That 
even the conscience should be affected by apprppriate 
culture and care, and become more perfect in its power 
of discernment, as the mind itself was perfected, need 
not appear surprising. This is the uniform law of all 
the other powers and faculties of the human mind, and 
we see no reason why it should not obtain in regard to 
the moral sense. Time is required even for the develop- 
ment in a slight degree of some of the noblest powers 
of our nature. How could we know, or suspect even, 
that the infant was a rational being, only as we perceive 
that it belongs to our species ? Reason, which distin- 
guishes man from the brute, is the last power of the 
mind to come forth from its latent state. The influence 
which use has in the senses of the body, to which the 
apostle likens conscience, is apparent to every one. The 
eye, for instance, at first gives no impression of distance 



CONSCIENCE. 257 

or magnitude, and perhaps not even a perception of any- 
outward substance. But what change in its capacity 
and power does it receive from use. Objects in time 
assume before it their proper form and distances and 
magnitudes. It discerns things that are minute and 
those that are not. It takes in at one view the earth and 
the heavens, and fills the mind of the beholder with all 
the glory and majesty of the Creator's works. In like 
manner the moral sense of the mind is more and more 
developed by use, and by appropriate study and care is 
carried forward unto perfection. Time and exercise 
enable it to discern both good and evil, when once, 
perhaps, it perceived neither ; and, moreover, the good 
appears more desirable and excellent, and the evil more 
hateful and vile. 

But it is to be borne in mind that the apostle does 
not say that this sense improves, as a matter of course, 
with our years ; it only improves by use. And, more- 
over, he would emphasize the word use ; as if he had 
said, it is use, and not abuse, by which the " senses are 
exercised to discern," etc. In the first place, then, the 
conscience is to be exercised in order to be improved. 
No faculty of the human system is improved in any 
other way. The muscles of the body lose their con- 
tractile power by long confinement, and become useless. 
The sight is impaired rather than strengthened by being 
long closed or excluded from the light. Memory, reason, 
all the powers of the intellect, are weakened, if not de- 
stroyed, by inactivity. If, then, use would improve the 
sense by which we discern the things of God, and 
apprehend the powers of the world to come, we must 
keep it employed. In the second place, we must employ 
it aright. There is such a thing as using the conscience 
only to abuse it. If I use my conscience only to suit 

22* 



258 CONSCIENCE. 

my interest or convenience, what do I else than abuse 
it. If I strain it to magnify the faults of other men 
and to make them appear even worse than they are, 
and contract it when I look at my own, that they may 
appear much less than they really are, is not this an 
abuse of conscience ? If I try to hide my sins, or if I 
shut out all that goes to aggravate them, and let in all 
that may seem to palliate, is not this an abuse of con- 
science ? The only way to improve conscience by 
exercise, is to use it fairly and honestly. Things must 
be looked at with a full and open vision; they must be 
contemplated without prejudice or favor, even as an 
upright judge canvasses the evidences before him ; we 
must suffer conscience to have the benefit of all that 
goes to aggravate, as well as what seems to mitigate, an 
offence, if we would make it skilful in discerning right- 
eous judgment. 

5. The degree of perfection which the conscience 
attains by use, is in proportion to the attainment of 
grace in the heart, and is the best evidence that the 
heart is in a gracious state. The evidence given in the 
text, that believers are not babes, but full grown men in 
the life of God, is, that they have their " senses exercised 
to discern both good and evil." It is not their hopes 
nor assurances, their joys nor their raptures. It is not 
their zeal, nor their exertions, nor their sacrifices, which 
constitute the best evidence of their great attainments 
in the grace of God, or even of their having any grace 
at all. It is that they have a conscience in all things ; a 
conscience that is wide awake; a conscience that is 
supreme over the heart, over the will, and over the life ; a 
conscience that is quick to discern the evil as well as the 
good; a conscience that has no partiality and no mercy; 
a conscience that feels the pressure of a mote as sensibly 



CONSCIENCE. 259 

as that of a beam ; a conscience, in fine, whose voice is 
like the music of angels to those who follow her guid- 
ance, and more terrific than the thunders of God in the 
ear of the transgressor. This was the conscience of 
Paul ; and he strove to keep it " void of offence both 
towards God and towards men." He had it, indeed, from 
the hand of his Maker, but grace taught it discernment 
by reason of use, and thereby made it a guide and a 
comforter to this eminent disciple. He walked in the 
light of it, and striving to bring every imagination and 
thought of his heart into captivity to it, he rejoiced in 
hope of the glory of God. 

See t© it then, O disciple, that in estimating the 
evidence of your good estate, you leave not conscience 
out of your reckoning. Let nothing satisfy you but 
what was sufficient to satisfy Paul. And to this end 
ponder well these remarkable words of his in which he 
sums up the evidence of his hope, that he had an inher- 
itance with them who are called to be saints. " For our 
rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience that in 
simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, 
but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation 
in the world." 2 Cor. i. 12. 



SERMON IX. 



THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFEENCE. 



4 ' FOR WHOSOEVER SHALL KEEP THE WHOLE LAW, AND YET OFFEND IN ONE 

point, he is guilty of all." — James ii. 10. 1 



The maxim here laid down by the apostle, is designed 
to test the question of obedience to the law of God. 
This question he gives us to understand, is to be deter- 
mined, not by the instances which may exist of con- 
formity to the law, but by the cases of transgression. 
The former, though numerous, and extending almost to 
every precept of the law, do not make out a case of 
obedience ; while the latter, though confined to one 
section of the law, and to a single instance of wilful 
transgression, constitute a case of unmitigated offence, 
and justly subject the perpetrator to the penalty of the 
law. 

This rule the apostle brings forward in the chapter 
before us for the benefit of those disciples to whom the 
epistle was addressed. They were professed believers, 
and the test of their faith in Christ was their obedience 
to the law of God. But in applying this test they were 
to consider that obedience was universal, in order to 
constitute the evidence desired. If ye fulfil the royal 

1 1844. 



THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 261 

law according to the scripture, — Thou shalt love thy 
neighbor as thyself, — ye do well. But if ye have respect 
to persons, ye commit sin and are convinced of the law, 
that is, convicted by the law as transgressors. Here it 
is implied that the letter of the law may in many par- 
ticular cases be observed ; and at the same time its 
whole spirit in one respect be disregarded. They may 
pay an undue deference to certain persons in their 
assembly on account of their worldly riches and gran- 
deur, and, on the other hand, treat with undeserved 
neglect another class on account of their' poverty and 
vile raiment. Here now was a partiality betrayed which 
was in contravention of the spirit of the law ; and which 
by consequence served to impair and vitiate the evidence 
which otherwise their obedience might furnish of the 
genuineness of their faith. There was much of seeming 
conformity to the law in their treatment of each other ; 
while at the same time there was one case of palpable 
and habitual violation, and by this one they were " con- 
vinced of the law as transgressors." For whosoever 
shall keep the whole law and yet offend in one point, he 
is guilty of all. 

The doctrine here laid down we propose to illustrate 
by a few remarks, and then to deduce from it some prac- 
tical reflections. 

That the whole of any law is virtually and truly 
broken by the violation of one of its parts will appear 
when we consider, 

I. That the whole law springs from one and the same 
source, and each of its parts rests on the same authority. 
This is the argument used by the apostle to sustain the 
position taken in the text. Having asserted that to have 
offended in one point is to be guilty of all, he proceeds 
to the proof, — " for he that said, Do not commit adul- 



262 THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 

tery, said also, Do not kill. Now, if thou commit no 
adultery, yet if thou kill thou art become a transgressor 
of the law." It is one undivided and indivisible authority 
that pervades the whole. It is all concentrated, so to 
speak, in each and every part of it ; so that at every 
point at which we approach it, we are confronted with 
the whole authority of him who ordained the law. 
There may indeed be a relative importance attached to 
the several sections embraced in the law. One, in com- 
parison to the rest, may be denominated the least of the 
commandments ; and another, the greatest of all ; but 
the same authority ordained and guards the one that 
ordained and guards the other, and the whole of this 
authority is dishonored by a violation of either. The 
attitude of the transgressor is that of resistance, not 
merely to a particular rule, but to the authority on which 
that rule rests ; that is to say, to the whole authority 
which pervades the law. It may not be in his heart to 
murder, or to steal, or to bear false witness, but it may 
be to profane the Sabbath, or to dishonor his parents, or 
to covet. At one of the points he proposes to make an 
aggression on the law, and flatters himself, perhaps, that 
by violating the least of the commandments, and leaving 
all the others inviolate, his offence will be one of slight 
magnitude, and possibly wholly atoned for by the respect 
he shows for the more important precepts. But let us 
consider, for a moment, what the man proposes to do. 
The law prohibiting profane swearing, or enforcing the 
observance of the Sabbath, or requiring obedience to 
parents, is set before him ; but it suits his convenience 
to violate one of these ordinances. It is only one out of 
many; the duty it enjoins is of far less importance to 
society than the duty enforced in either of the other 
parts of the code, and, at any rate, he means that all the 



THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 263 

rest shall be honored. He, knowingly and deliberately, 
proposes to break one commandment. But the Lord 
God of heaven and earth ordained this one command- 
ment ; He it was that said, " Thou shalt not take the 
name of the Lord thy God in vain;" " Remember the 
Sabbath day, and keep it holy;" " Honor thy father and 
thy mother." He sanctions each of these precepts with 
all the authority he has. For the time being he with- 
draws it, so to speak, from every other part of his law, 
and concentrates it in all its purity and with all its terri- 
bleness on this one statute. But the daring man is not 
overawed ; he adheres to his purpose and the deed is 
done. And what deed is done ? That one precept alone 
broken, and all the rest of the law left inviolate, and the 
high authority on which it rests, respected and honored ? 
No man believes this. The law itself is a wreck, so far 
as one deed can make it so ; every part of it is as much 
dishonored as this particular statute, for the authority of 
the whole, — that without which no part of it is binding, 
— has been set at nought and contemned. This is what 
the sinner does who assails the law of God in whatever 
part. At whatever point it enters, his weapon reaches 
the seat of life, and every member trembles alike from 
the wound inflicted. 

II. The spirit and intent which pervades the whole 
law is one. Every law has an end, and this end consti- 
tutes the reason of the law; and is the same in all the 
parts of it, whether those parts are more or less numer- 
ous. The end which the law of God seeks, is the 
prevalence of perfect holiness in the moral world. This 
is the reason of that divine law which is inscribed on the 
heart of every rational being, and which has been put on 
record by the pen of the Holy Ghost. This law em- 
braces various precepts and prohibitions ; but they all 



264 THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 

look to one end, and they are all necessary in securing 
that end. God would have all the subjects of this law 
holy, and holy " without spot or blemish ; " and hence, 
the one spirit that pervades it all is expressed in the 
divine words, " be ye holy, for I am holy ; " " be ye per- 
fect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect." This 
end is not attained so long as one of the precepts of 
the law is disregarded, for the same spirit pervades and 
animates them all alike. The law has its life as well as 
the human body, and this life is one, undivided and 
indivisible. It is everywhere present, as it is in the 
members of the living, healthy body, making every part 
a living organ of itself. And if neither the hand nor 
the foot can be wounded without causing pain to the 
whole body and diffusing it through every member, so 
neither can a tittle of the law be injured without com- 
municating the injury to the whole fabric. Again, as 
no member of the body can be amputated without 
leaving the whole more or less disabled, so neither can 
the least commandment of the law be removed without 
defeating the intent of the whole ; it cannot be dishon- 
ored without offending the spirit of the whole. He who 
proposes this dishonor proposes no less than to resist the 
wisdom and benevolence of the Lawgiver, and if possi- 
ble to defeat the same. His design is to circumscribe 
the end which the law contemplates, and to make the 
world less holy and less happy than the spirit of the law 
seeks to make it. He may limit his intention to a single 
precept of the law and faticy that he has a respect for 
each and all of the other precepts ; but he forgets that 
the respect due to the whole is only that which is due to 
each of its parts. The spirit of the whole is concen- 
trated at every point where aggression is meditated ; at 
each of these points it confronts the aggressor, and when 



THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 265 

the deed is perpetrated, it is with an insult to itself, not 
a whit less than if the whole law had been crushed by 
the blow. 

III. The language used to express sin and the penalty 
due to it, pre-supposes a unity in the law, and hence, 
that the whole suffers by a violation of one of its parts. 
Sin is denned to be " a transgression of the law." This 
language implies that the whole law is transgressed, 
that is, in the authority and spirit of the whole ; albeit 
only some particular preoept is formally violated. It 
may be that the name of the Lord is taken in vain ; 
or that the Sabbath day is not kept holy ; or that parents 
are not honored ; still in each case sin is committed, and 
where there is sin there is a transgression of the law, — 
not of some part of the law, but of the law, — the whole 
law. But the original of the phrase we have quoted is 
still stronger to our purpose. Sin is " lawlessness," is a 
more exact translation of the words ; it is a disregard 
of the whole law, and of all law. The transgressor is 
one who pursues his own interest and inclination as 
though there were no law to restrain him. Law has no 
hold on his affections ; it exerts little or no control over 
his will or lawless desires. He sins, indeed, if he only 
covets his neighbor's goods, or bears false witness, or 
steals and defrauds ; but he sins in these acts because 
he sets at nought the whole law of God, and exhibits a 
law-resisting spirit. 

And moreover, when the Scriptures speak of the pen- 
alty which the sinner incurs, it is one penalty, and this 
the penalty of the whole law. Indeed, it is noticeable 
that we do not read of different penalties in kind an- 
nexed to different acts of transgression, but the same is 
denounced against all, and that in the whole weight of 
the violated law. " The soul that sinneth it shall die." 

23 



266 THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 

" Cursed is every one that contirmeth not in all things 
written in the book of the law to do them." " The 
wages of sin is death." " He will turn the wicked into 
hell." These are the terms which the Scriptures employ 
to express the deserts of the sinner and the punishment 
to which he is held liable. Every case of transgression 
is regarded as a breach of the whole law of God ; a 
contempt of the infinite authority of God, and an indi- 
cation of a law-contemning spirit ; and hence, one pen- 
alty is set over against it, whatever may be the particular 
precept which has been violated. It is not the sixth, 
seventh, or eighth commandment alone that the man 
has to answer to, who murders, or commits adultery, or 
steals ; he must consider what he shall answer at the 
tribunal of the whole law which has been trampled 
on, and how he shall sustain the rebuke of that high 
authority which, in all its extent, he has insulted. 

But enough has been said, I must think, to exhibit 
the justness of the principle laid down in our text, 
that whosoever shall keep the whole law and yet 
offend in one point, is guilty of all. I proceed now, as 
was proposed, to some practical reflections. 

1. Sin consists essentially in the state of the heart, 
otherwise it is not easy to apprehend the truth that a 
breach of one commandment is virtually a breach of all 
the other commandments, and a sin against the whole 
law. Profaning the Sabbath and stealing another man's 
goods, considered as overt acts, have no perceptible 
affinity to each other ; and it is not easy to perceive why 
the commission of the first sin may not be consistent 
with strict integrity towards our fellow men. The man 
who will bear false witness to the injury of his neighbor 
may, so far as outward appearance is regarded, be a 
pattern of filial respect and dutifulness. But when we 



THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 267 

come to trace all these separate and disconnected acts 
up to their common source, the heart, and reflect that 
these acts derive their moral character from the fountain 
whence they issue, we cease to find difficulty in the 
doctrine recognized in our text. We now find that all 
wrong acts take their rise in one lawless spirit, — a spirit 
whose evil nature consists in its opposition to law. It 
is prepared to cast off all wholesome restraints, and to 
gratify its own appetites and passions by the violation 
of any prohibition which the law enjoins. At one time 
it may feel the force of an appetite more strongly than 
anything else, and then it will resist the law which pro- 
hibits that indulgence. At another, it may be swayed 
by the passion of covetousness or revenge, and then it 
will trample down the law which says, " thou shalt not 
covet," " thou shalt not kill." There is a unity in sin, 
no less than in the law of which it is a violation. This 
unity is found in the law-resisting, law-contemning spirit 
which reigns in the children of disobedience. Here is 
the origin of all the sin there is in men. It is found in 
a heart that is not right with God ; a heart that is de- 
ceitful above all things and desperately wicked ; a heart 
which is enmity against God, for it is not subject to the 
law of God, neither indeed can be. Its want of sub- 
jection to law is the evidence of its enmity, nay, its 
enmity consists in this. " For from within, out of the 
heart of man, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornica- 
tion, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, 
lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolish- 
ness ; " all these things " come from within, and defile 
the man." 

2. Our subject suggests to every one the thought, that 
in reality we may be the subjects of far deeper sinful- 
ness than we have ever suspected. In estimating their 



268 THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 

own character and deserts, men are liable to be led into 
a great mistake from the methods they adopt in making 
out their conclusions. The tendency with all is to 
conceive of sin as attaching to overt acts ; and hence 
they limit their inquiries mainly, to their outward lives. 
Now, if a man has been openly and shamefully vicious 
in his life and habits, — a Sabbath-breaker and profane 
man ; disobedient to parents ; delighting in scenes of 
impurity and broils and fightings ; a thief or a liar, — 
he will find enough in what he has said and done to fill 
him with shame and terror in his moments of serious 
reflection. But all men cannot find the same record of 
themselves in their outward life. They cannot charge 
themselves with many acts of gross offence against the 
laws of virtue and morality. They have shunned the 
revels of the drunkard and the profane, and loathed the 
dwelling of her " whose feet go down to death and whose 
steps take hold on hell;" their intercourse with men has 
been marked by a high sense of probity and honor ; they 
have cherished a frank and truthful and generous spirit 
in their own bosoms ; they have reverenced the name 
and ordinances of God ; and, with the young man in 
the gospel, they can say, almost in regard to the letter 
of the commandments, " All these have I kept from my 
youth up ; what lack I yet?" Now it is evident, that by 
prosecuting this course of inquiry there is danger that 
many will fail of arriving at a just sense of their deserts, 
and when addressed in those terms of scripture which 
apply to all, and set forth the utter sinfulness of all, they 
will find no corresponding response in their own con- 
sciousness. But these same moral and virtuous persons 
will not claim for themselves an entire exemption from 
sin. They all confess to the charge that they are sinners, 
They remember the evil thoughts they have cherished, 



THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 269 

yea, the hard thoughts against God they have indulged, 
and the countless neglects of duty of which they have 
been guilty. Even these amiable and generous-hearted 
persons are free to confess that they have not given their 
hearts to God ; that they have been rebellious under his 
appointments; that they have been impatient under 
his restraints. Yea, that they have loved the creature 
instead of God, who is over all. And now let such 
consider in what condition these confessions place them. 
They only show that what is true of others is true also 
of themselves ; that they belong to the race of the chil- 
dren of disobedience, and are by nature children of 
wrath, even as others. Nature or education has imposed 
more restraints on them than on many others, and hence, 
they have not plunged like others into " the pollutions of 
the world." But sin, we have seen, is essentially a thing 
of the heart ; and hence, it may exist in all its malignity 
and power while the outward life is comparatively pure. 
It may beget in the heart that feeling of self-righteous- 
ness which shields the conscience from the sword of the 
Spirit, which is the word of God. It may render the 
sinner more stout-hearted, and remove him far from 
the righteousness of God, keeping him in a state of 
false security, even while those who are more daring in 
sin are arrested in their course and brought back to God 
by repentance. It may serve to blind and flatter the 
soul in a neglect of its own eternal interest, till sudden 
destruction overtake them as a thief in the night, and 
they shall not escape. We would be far from dispar- 
aging the moral virtues ; we honor them, and we admire 
the man who has passed along the polluting ways of 
the world and preserved himself from their contamina- 
tion. Oar Saviour himself admired them; and when 
he saw the young man clothed and adorned with them, 

23* 



270 THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 

" he loved him ! " But moral virtues must not be mis- 
taken for the graces of the Spirit, nor the source of 
them be confounded with a new heart The virtuous 
man, like the youth in the gospel, may be still under the 
dominion of a heart that is in rebellion against God ; 
his heart may cherish a law-resisting spirit. He may 
recognize, in truth, no God but himself. He may not 
have one feeling of esteem for the infinitely holy God ; 
not one emotion of true gratitude for the countless 
mercies that are poured forth upon him ; not one emo- 
tion of heart-felt joy that God reigns. "When his 
interests or his pleasures come in conflict with God's 
will, he may stoutly resist and fearlessly rebel. When 
all the authority of God's law is set before him as con- 
centrated in one point of that law, and the divine power 
and wrath are arrayed to deter him from transgression, 
he may coolly and contemptuously place his foot on that 
authority, and recklessly defy the power that can crush 
him in a moment. All this he may do consistently with 
the virtues that adorn his outward life, and for which he 
is admired and applauded by all. Nay more, all this he 
actually does in every instance in which he knowingly 
and deliberately refuses or neglects conformity to the 
law of God. And now, let me ask, has such a man any 
reason to be proud of himself before God, or to look 
upon himself with a flattering and complacent eye ? Is 
there not matter enough in his own bosom to fill him 
with shame and self-loathing ; enough to alarm him with 
apprehensions of coming wrath and constrain him to ask 
with all earnestness, " men and brethren, what shall I 
do?" 

3. Our subject serves to throw some light on what is 
termed the doctrine of total moral depravity. The 
advocates of this doctrine, or of the doctrine which 



THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 271 

bears this title, do not admit it as a fact of their repre- 
sentation that men by nature are necessarily as wicked 
as they can be ; or that there is no progress in sin from 
a bad state to one that is still worse, or even that every 
act of a man's life is unavoidably and intrinsically sinful. 
They assert only that man's depravity by nature is with- 
out any mixture of what is morally good in the sight of 
God ; it is a sinfulness that is unalleviated, unredeemed 
by its opposite, which is not moral virtue, but true holi- 
ness. This doctrine neither asserts nor implies that the 
unrenewed man is constantly repeating acts of conscious 
and deliberate sin ; or that any number of distinct acts 
of transgression is required in evidence that he is a 
totally depraved man. The advocates of this doctrine 
look only at the habitual moral aspect of the heart ; they 
contemplate only the position which it maintains to the 
law of God. Does the heart delight in the spirit of this 
law ? Does it approve of its appointments, because they 
are holy, just, and good ? Does it bow to the authority 
that sanctions it, and cheerfully forego its own prefer- 
ences and selfish ends when they come in conflict with 
this law? Surely, the apostle thought not so when he 
said, " the carnal mind is enmity against God ; for it is 
not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be." 
Nor when he said again, in the words of the Psalmist, 
" There is none righteous, no, not one : there is none 
that understandeth ; there is none that seeketh after 
God. They are all gone out of the way ; they are to- 
gether become unprofitable ; there is none that doeth 
good, no, not one." The heart of the unrenewed man, 
as it regards God, is in a lawless state. It resists the 
law, and violates its precepts whenever they come in 
competition with its unholy desires and selfish interests. 
Now, it is this aspect of the heart towards God and his 



272 THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 

law in which man's sinfulness essentially and mainly 
consists. Its spirit is habitually and unrelentingly hos- 
tile to the holy law of God. It has no seasons in which 
this hostility softens and relents ; no moments when it 
bows cheerfully to its authority, and finds its happiness 
in unreserved submission and obedience. And why may 
not such a state be denominated exclusive ? It holds 
its place against all that would overcome it. And why 
may not such depravity, if it is depravity at all, be styled 
total ? What redeeming admixture is there in it ? What 
needs to be added to make it utterly wrong and odious 
in the sisht of God ? 

4. We learn what constitutes conviction of sin. This 
phrase, we are aware, is often objected to, as savoring 
of fanaticism, and because infidels and the enemies of 
evangelical religion have found it easy to turn it into 
ridicule. And if a word or phrase is to be abandoned 
for this reason, it is doubtful whether any terms will be 
left us by which to express either the peculiar doctrines 
of Christianity or the workings of grace in the heart. 
It is conceded on all sides that one may be a sinner 
and yet not have those apprehensions of himself and of 
his deserts which such a fact would seem adapted to 
awaken. In other w T ords, there may be sin without the 
knowledge of sin. The knowledge of sin as belonging 
to us, a feeling that we are guilty and are liable to the 
penalty of the law we have broken, is what is generally 
understood by the phrase " conviction of sin." It arises 
in the mind according to the same process by which 
other feelings arise. It is the result of reflection. Time 
may banish from the mind the remembrance of a friend 
we have lost, or of an injury we have received, or of a 
wrong we have inflicted on another ; but reflection re- 
vives the remembrance, and restores the feeling in its 



THE LAW BROKEN BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 273 

original freshness. But sin may be committed without 
any perceptible feeling of regret and sorrow at the time ; 
and hence it requires a greater effort of the mind to 
recall the offences of our past lives, and impress the 
heart with the guilt and danger that adhere to them. 
Now it is this impression concerning our sinfulness and 
deserts that we call " conviction of sin." But this is 
not necessarily a remembrance of all our sins, or even 
of many particular sins unusually heinous in their char- 
acter. It is rather an apprehension of our sinful state, 
a consciousness that our hearts are not right with God. 
It looks more at the present than at the past. We see 
the claims of God upon us in his law, and we feel that 
these claims are resisted in our hearts ; yea, there may 
be an overwhelming conviction of sin, and yet our 
thoughts be looking intently on what is now passing 
within us, without a single glance at the past, without 
reverting even to any particular sins we have committed. 
We feel that we are now unreconciled to God ; we have 
no complacency in his holiness; no delight in his law; 
no desire to glorify him in our bodies and spirits which 
are his. We feel the spirit of resistance, of enmity, of 
ingratitude and disobedience at work in our hearts. We 
know it is wrong ; we know it is dangerous to indulge 
it ; we struggle against it ; still it is there. We strive 
to overcome it by the force of motives ; we think of the 
love and benevolence of God towards us ; we call to 
remembrance the wrath that is in store for the rebel ; 
still the heart is hard and relentless. Fellow-sinner, is 
this intelligible language to your ear ? Have you ever 
felt this resistance to God and duty ; this striving and 
warring within ? Then you may have had some knowl- 
edge of sin ; yea, have felt its evil and condemning 
power. But without this, though you may have num- 



274 THE LAW BROKEN" BY A SINGLE OFFENCE. 

bered up ten thousand transgressions in your past life, 
and trembled in your inmost soul at the wrath to come, 
still you have had but a feeble sense of your sinfulness, 
and of the great change you must experience before you 
can see the kingdom of God. 

5. From what has been said, we are prepared to ap- 
prehend the nature and necessity of regeneration. It is 
that great work of the Holy Spirit by which the heart 
of the sinner is reclaimed to the dominion of the law of 
God. The disobedient, lawless spirit of man is made 
willing in the day of God's power. Instead of resisting, 
it sweetly coincides with the will of God, bows in filial 
submission to His authority, and finds " delight in the 
law of the Lord after the inner man." This, in the lan- 
guage of Jesus, is " being born again." It is the soul 
receiving into itself a principle of obedience to each 
and every part of the law, because each and every part 
is holy, just, and good, and bears the authority of God 
upon it. And who can for a moment doubt the neces- 
sity of such a change ? How can a law-resisting, law- 
contemning spirit, be approved of God ? How can a 
rebel be received into heaven, or how made happy under 
a law which requires the obedience of every thought of 
the heart, but from which the whole soul steadfastly and 
unceasingly revolts ? Marvel not, then, O man, when it 
is said unto thee, " ye must be born again." " Except 
a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of 
God." 



SERMON X. 



THE GOSPEL TRUE TO THE MORAL CONVICTIONS 

OF MEN. 



" AND AS HE REASONED OF RIGHTEOUSNESS, TEMPERANCE, AND JUDGMENT 
TO COME, FELIX TREMBLED, AND ANSWERED, GO THY WAY FOR THIS TIME; 
WHEN I HAVE A CONVENIENT SEASON I WILL CALL FOR THEE." — Acts 
xxiv. 25. 1 

The scene here recorded transpired in the palace of 
the Roman governor of Judea ; Paul, the apostle, who 
had been accused of being a pestilent fellow, and a 
mover of sedition among all the Jews throughout the 
world, and a ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes, — 
who had, also, gone about to profane the temple, — was 
arraigned for trial. Felix, whose private life was marked 
by the most infamous vices, and whose public adminis- 
tration was rendered odious by oppression and rapacity, 
sat as the presiding judge. The prisoner was com- 
manded to speak ; first, concerning his religious tenets, 
" the faith in Christ," which he preached. But the singu- 
lar character of his defence on this occasion, so foreign, 
seemingly, to the point in hand, if not impertinent to 
such an imposing assembly, and to the momentous inter- 
ests at stake, can hardly escape the observation of any 
one. Instead of an apology, the court is required to 

1 1847. 



276 THE GOSPEL TRUE TO THE 

listen to a sermon. In the place of a calm and studied 
exposition of the creed which he promulgated, we listen 
only to an unreserved and fearless exposure of the vices 
and crimes of the judge ; a pointed and earnest applica- 
tion of truth to his conscience, enforced by the most 
solemn appeals to the coming day of retribution. The 
speaker seems to have forgotten that he was a helpless 
prisoner before a vindictive tribunal, and to think of 
himself only as the apostle of Jesus Christ, dispensing 
the terrors of the Lord and the word of reconciliation. 
His own personal safety appears to be lost sight of in 
his zeal to reclaim this high offender against the laws of 
God, and to impart to him the salvation which is pro- 
vided for sinners. 

Another circumstance, moreover, will hardly escape 
the notice of the reader, in the singular character of this 
defence. This eminent servant of Jesus has been some- 
times accused of compromising the temporal rights of 
men in his zeal to preserve the tranquillity of the church, 
or to promote the salvation of souls. But the seeming 
inconsistency disappears, when we consider that it was 
the method of this apostle to adapt his instructions to 
those whom he addressed. If he addressed men as 
subjects of law, he pointed out their duties in this rela- 
tion, rather than sought to inflame their passions against 
those who oppressed and injured them. If we would 
understand, then, the true spirit of the man, and learn 
with what feelings he regarded the proud and imperious 
oppressors of their race, we must follow him into the 
presence of such men, and listen to the truths with 
which he entertains them. It is on such an occasion 
that he is presented before us in our text. He is cited 
on a criminal prosecution, and his present concern is, as 
the alleged "ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes," 



MORAL CONVICTIONS OF MEN 277 

to state and defend the doctrines which he preached. 
But he seems to forget that his liberty and life are at 
stake. He thinks only of the man before him; of the 
vices that have disgraced him, and of the crimes that 
have rendered him odious to God and to man. He 
remembers his habits of licentiousness and excess, the 
wretchedness and ruin he has sent into the domestic 
circle, the wrongs which his rapacity has inflicted on 
individuals, and the sighs and groans which his oppres- 
sions had wrung from the hearts of a nation ; and 
though he sits before him enrobed in purple, and sur- 
rounded with his cohorts, and armed with the authority 
of the Caesars, yet all this cannot protect him from the 
rebuke which he deserves. Here, as on other occasions, 
the apostle proclaims the truth as it is in Jesus, and at 
the same time skilfully adapts it to the character of his 
audience. He spares neither the man nor his sins. He 
expounds to him the law of God, rather than " the faith 
in Christ." He rehearses to him his unrighteous acts 
and beastly practices, and scourges his guilty soul as 
with a whip of scorpions. . Such is Paul in the presence 
of voluptuaries and tyrants. He uncovers all their sins 
and sets them in order before their eyes. He brings 
them near to the judgment-seat of a just and avenging 
God, and, in the midst of all their pride and power, 
makes them quail at the thought of retribution. "As he 
reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to 
come, Felix trembled." 

In farther directing your minds to some of the prac- 
tical uses to be made of the incident recorded in the 
text, I remark, 

I. That the most successful method of imparting a 
knowledge of divine truth to the human understanding, 
is to present it under its various adaptation to the per- 



278 THE GOSPEL TRUE TO THE 

sons and circumstances of the inquirers. There was 
more of profound sagacity and of a master's skill con- 
cealed in the defence of Paul at the bar of Felix, than 
at first appears. While he seems to lose sight of what 
concerned him most, — a defence of the doctrine of 
Christ, — and to be hazarding the success of his own 
cause in his eagerness to save the soul of his judge, 
he is in reality pursuing his proper object in the most 
direct path, and with the most certain prospect of suc- 
cess. His own observation had taught him how little 
sympathy existed in a depraved, sensual mind for the 
Christian religion, regarded as a system of abstract 
truths ; and, hence, that he might discourse the day out 
in the spirit and style of a philosopher, on the reason- 
ableness and harmony and benevolence of the truths 
comprised in the Christian system, and leave at the end 
but a slight impression on the minds of his audience ; 
on the sin-hardened soul of his judge, or on the preju- 
diced and embittered minds of his accusers, the Jews, 
these abstractions of the " faith in Christ " would be 
utterly powerless, like the rays of a wintry sun on fields 
of ice. Hence, instead of amusing their understandings, 
he sought to enlist their feelings in the things he uttered. 
In the place of brandishing his sword before them, that 
their eyes might be dazzled with the splendor of its 
blade or the richness of its mounting, he chose so to use 
it that they might prove both the excellence of its 
temper and the keenness of its edge. He aimed to 
establish the truthfulness of his doctrine from its adapt- 
edness to the state and character of those whom it 
professedly concerned. It was a testimony ; and the 
business of the apostle was to show that this testimony 
was according to truth ; and how could he more effect- 
ually accomplish this than by the method which he 



MORAL CONVICTIONS OF MEN. 279 

adopted ? In the unblemished purity of God's right- 
eousness, as set forth in his "Word, he bids his audience 
contemplate, as in a mirror, their own characters and 
deserts. Placing his hand on the law of God, " he 
reasons of equity, justice, and truth, of sobriety and 
chastity ; and then, raising his eyes to him on whose 
will the issues of that day were suspended, and in whose 
public and private life every precept of that law had 
been broken and insulted, he discourses of that dreadful 
day when, according to ' the faith in Christ,' every man 
must give account of himself to God." 

Such was the method by which Paul was accustomed 
to vindicate his cause at the tribunal of man. Others 
might define and explain ; talk of fitness and consist- 
ency ; pile argument on argument in defence of their 
position ; but Paul bore the naked truth home, as a tes- 
timony, to the " business and bosoms of men," and 
compelled the sensual Roman and the false-hearted Jew 
to believe it, from the simple fact that it testified truly 
of them and their deeds. 

II. Men are seldom found so depraved and reprobate 
as to have lost all susceptibility to the power of gospel 
truth. Men have existed, and still exist, who seem to have 
sounded all the depths of practical iniquity and vice, to 
have fallen below the brute in their beastly appetites and 
pleasures, and to have reached apparently the level of 
demons in their corrupt and malignant passions ; never- 
theless, they have not been able to obliterate from the 
soul the sensibility to right and wrong, to holiness and 
sin, and to the retributions of eternity. Such a man we 
discover in him who sat on the tribunal before which 
Paul was arraigned. Closely allied by marriage to Mark 
Antony and Cleopatra, of Egypt, whose infamous deeds, 
set off by their high personal and princely accomplish- 



280 THE GOSPEL TRUE TO THE 

ments, have given their names a preeminence in the 
annals of impurity ; educated in the camps or court of 
Rome at a time when, as its own historian has said, the 
people could neither " endure their vices, nor the reme- 
dies provided for them ; " familiar from his youth with 
all scenes of corruption, rapacity, and cruelty ; having 
seduced from her husband the very woman who now 
sits by his side, and from whose mind the light of pure, 
divine truth was excluded, Felix might be expected to 
furnish the instance, if one existed, of a mind from 
which all sensibility to religious sentiment had been 
obliterated. But, even in his case, the example is not 
furnished us. Paul verily believed that, buried beneath 
the depths of darkness and depravity in the mind of 
this man even, there was an oracle that would answer 
when questioned by the voice of truth ; a judgment- 
seat from which a righteous sentence would be uttered, 
and in peals of thunder, could his voice for once be made 
to reach it. And it is at the door of that oracle, and 
before that unseen tribunal, and not before the mere 
understanding of his judges, that he presents himself 
in defence of the " truth as it is in Jesus." " He reasons 
of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come," 
where the import of such language can be apprehended 
and its power felt. His practised finger touches chords 
which were never reached before, and they vibrate under 
the genial pressure. He pours light into recesses where, 
possibly, a beam from heaven never shone before ; and 
a scroll is illuminated which no art or device of man 
inscribed ; a handwriting becomes legible on the wall, 
as when the palace at Babylon resounded with the 
nightly revel, and the knees of him who looked thereon 
smote one against another. " And as he reasoned of 
righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix 



MORAL CONVICTIONS OF MEN. 281 

trembled." We infer, then, that there is in the bosoms 
of men a sensibility to truth and duty which it is not 
easy to annihilate. "We may neglect to cherish and to 
call it into use, and so, like a delicate instrument of 
music, it may in time seem to have become untuned, if 
not unstrung. We may account it a tormentor, and 
refuse to listen to it, or strive to stifle its voice ; we may 
labor to corrupt its testimony by the seductions of gain 
or pleasure, or to smother its accusations under a load 
of vices and crimes ; but can we hope to succeed where 
the monarch of Babylon, where the treacherous betrayer 
of his Lord, where the Governor of Judea, utterly failed ? 
This sensibility may be suspended, perhaps, yea, " seared 
as with a red-hot iron," while the life of the organ is unaf- 
fected, as there may be a calm and silence in the sky, 
though the power of the storm and tornado is not anni- 
hilated. Think not, then, O sinner that conscience — a 
neglected and abused conscience — is only a phantasm 
in the brain of a frenzied maniac ; that because all at 
present is quiet and peaceful in your bosom, there is no 
reason to apprehend that it will ever be otherwise. The 
thunders of heaven are now asleep, as well as those in 
the guilty heart of man ; and as sure as the one will 
reverberate again through the skies, so surely will the 
other cause your soul to tremble, when it shall please 
God to reveal to you his righteous judgments. 

III. Under the convictions of an awakened conscience, 
sinners become truly concerned for the safety of their 
souls, and hence, are prepared to listen to those teach- 
ings which it is the aim of the gospel to impart. King 
Agrippa manifested this concern for himself when Paul 
proclaimed at the foot of his throne and amidst the 
imposing array of his court, " That men should repent 
and turn to God, and do works meet for repentance." 

24* 



282 THE GOSPEL TRUE TO THE 

" Then Agrippa said unto Paul, almost thou persuadest 
me to be a Christian." Felix, too, the miserable offender, 
and destined to a miserable end, indicated this concern 
for himself, not only in the agitation which he betrayed 
to all present, but in the remarks which subsequently 
fell from his lips. His remorse of conscience awakened 
an apprehension, a terror of mind which he could control 
only by arresting the speaker, or bidding the assembly 
to disperse, or by occupying his mind with themes of a 
more congenial character. He felt deeply that his soul 
was in danger, and flattered himself that his eternal 
interests should not be neglected as they had been. It 
was his full intention to hear his prisoner again on this 
matter, and when he bade him go his way for that time, 
he assured him that at a convenient day he would call for 
him again. And he was true to his promise ; for it is 
recorded in the next verse, " that he sent for him often, 
and communed with him." And in all cases a con- 
science quickened to a sense of sin and ill-desert awak- 
ens in the sinner a concern for the safety of his soul. 
He feels that he has neglected an infinitely important 
interest, and that it is not safe to leave it in future, as he 
has done heretofore, entirely out of his plans and calcu- 
lations. He is convinced that he deserves evil and not 
good at the hand of God, and feels a sad premonition 
that if death should suddenly arrest his steps his soul 
would perish. Thus far, the case of any awakened 
sinner resembles that of Felix, and in too many 
instances the resemblance goes still further. Felix firmly 
resolved to do something for himself; but the present 
was not the time or this the place for doing it. He 
interrupted the exertions of the man who was effectually 
aiding him in the work of salvation ; and though he 
professedly did it only that he might find a better place 



MORAL CONVICTIONS OF MEN. 283 

and a more convenient time, still it was enough to pro- 
voke the Holy Spirit to depart from him. Again and 
again he summoned the man of God into his presence 
and communed with him ; but it was always with a 
diminished interest in the things of the kingdom. At 
last, he could not only hear him with indifference, but 
even had the audacity to intimate to his prisoner that 
he was only waiting for a bribe to release him. Thus 
vanished those convictions of the mind which for a time 
w T ere insupportable ; in an end so miserable and hope- 
less terminated what seemed to be an honest and firm 
resolve to attend to the things which belonged to his 
peace. " He returned like the dog to his vomit, and 
like the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the 
mire." 

And how many souls have been betrayed by the 
teaching of their own hearts into an imitation of this 
sad example ? God's Spirit has awakened the sensi- 
bility of their minds to the truth ; they are quickened to 
a sense of their unworthiness and danger, and have fully 
resolved to attend to the things that belong to their 
peace. But, like the unwary Felix, they think it reason- 
able and safe to take their own time for it. The truth 
presses heavily on their consciences ; the man of God is 
urgent with them, saying, "now is the accepted time;" 
but they reply, it is not " the convenient time, wherefore 
go thy way for the present." Here is the reef, the 
concealed, treacherous rock, on which the hopes of 
multitudes have perished. O, when will dying sinners 
be made to understand and believe that the accepted 
time is everything, and that the convenient time, noth- 
ing. That the one is now, and possibly may never be 
again ; and that the other, without this, though it may 
return a thousand times, will find us and leave us in the 



284 THE GOSPEL TRUE TO MORAL CONVICTIONS. 

way to death. When thou sayest, O man, "Go thy way 
for this time," thy words may be interpreted on high to 
mean, " Go thy way for once and forever ! " It is dan- 
gerous to trifle with the long-suffering of God. M He 
that being often reproved, hardeneth his neck, shall 
suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy." 



SEEM ON XL 



KELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS EESISTED. 



NEVERTHELESS, AMONG THE CHIEF RULERS ALSO MANY BELIEVED ON HIM; 
BUT BECAUSE OP THE PHARISEES THEY DID NOT CONPESS HIM, LEST THEY 
SHOULD BE PUT OUT OP THE SYNAGOGUE; POR THEY LOVED THE PRAISE 
OP MEN MORE THAN THE PRAISE OP GOD." — Jokll Xli. 42, 43. 1 



On a certain occasion it was tauntingly asked by the 
opponents of Jesus and his doctrine, " Have any of the 
rulers believed on him?" It was conceived to be an 
argument of great weight against the new religion that 
it acquired proselytes chiefly from the common people, 
the unlearned, and credulous ; while the upper class, em- 
bracing the most enlightened and discriminating minds, 
and such, of course, as were best fitted to judge of its 
claims on human belief, were nearly uniform in rejecting 
it. This mode of reasoning, doubtless, would have been 
less exceptionable had Christianity been propounded 
only in the form of abstract truths, and in technical 
phraseology ; but nothing, surely, could be more objec- 
tionable as a test of truths that rested on the testimony 
of sense, or appealed to the spiritual experience of every 
man. But, moreover, if the rule adopted by these zealous 
adversaries of Christ is at all admissible, it should be 
received in its fullest extent. If the judgment of learned 

1 1848. 



286 RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS RESISTED. 

and influential men has any authority in deciding on 
the claims of the religion of Jesus, then it has authority 
in favor of its claims as well as against them. If we 
are to reject the Christian doctrine because such men 
reject it, then, clearly, it is a reason for our embracing 
it that they have set us the example. 

Now we are informed in the text that the gospel did 
actually commend itself to be the power of God to not a 
few of this exalted class in society. The " chief rulers " 
were members of the Jewish senate, or princes of the state. 
They belonged to the highest class in society ; they were 
educated and experienced men, superior, we may sup- 
pose, to vulgar credulity and to the arts of a cunning im- 
postor. These men, moreover, were strongly prejudiced 
in favor of the old religion. Their early associations, 
their political connections, their personal friendship, their 
worldly interests, would only serve to fortify their minds 
against all change in their religious belief. These pow- 
erful obstructions must all yield to the force of evidence 
before they could receive the doctrine that Jesus was the 
Christ the Son of God. The difference in this case 
between adherence to the old religion and assenting to 
the new, was like that between a body at rest and the 
same body put in motion. Serious impediments must 
be overcome which would require the force of clear and 
irresistible evidence. If, then, the adherence of men of 
this class to the old religion was evidence of its truth 
and obligation, much more might their renunciation of 
it, and their adoption of a new system be urged in evi- 
dence of the truth of the new. Now it is said in the 
text, that " among the chief rulers also many believed 
on him." The disciples of Christ were not, in his day, 
confined to the ignorant and depressed classes in society; 
they were found also among the most enlightened and 



RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS RESISTED. 287 

favored class. His doctrine found its way into every 
class, and forced a conviction of its truth upon minds 
that were most strongly fortified against it. And the 
weight of the example adduced in the text, is not ma- 
terially lessened by the qualifying remark that follows : 
" but because of the Pharisees, they did not confess 
him, lest they should be put out of the Synagogue." 
The inconsistency betrayed in the conduct of these men 
did not neutralize their testimony in favor of Christ and 
his doctrine ; their conduct might be at variance with 
their convictions, still their convictions were in harmony 
with the doctrines and claims of Christ. They could 
not resist the evidence which his miracles and life fur- 
nished of his Messiahship, nor stifle the response which 
their consciences gave to the truth of his doctrine ; 
although counter influences, for the time being, might 
have restrained them from acting in accordance with 
their inward convictions. These convictions were in 
favor of the truth, while their conduct, in declining to 
confess Christ, only proves that men may know their 
duty and still neglect to do it. These rulers stood in 
fear of the Pharisees, — a powerful sect in the Jewish 
church, — and the most bitter and unrelenting enemies 
and persecutors of Christ. To espouse openly the cause 
of the Nazarene was to draw down upon their own heads 
the wrath and power of this controlling body. To escape 
the infamy of excommunication, to which an avowal of 
their convictions would expose them, they deemed it 
prudent to bury these convictions in their own bosoms, 
or to express them only in a private and confidential 
manner. " They loved the praise of men more than 
the praise of God." 

But, aside from the testimony which it furnishes in 
favor of the gospel doctrine, — testimony of men fully 



288 RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS RESISTED. 

competent to judge of its merits, and whose judgment, 
if biased at all, was biased against it, — aside from this, 
the text is highly instructive and admonitory in the 
truth which it offers to the mind. It furnishes an 
instance of men resisting the religious convictions of 
their minds. The chief rulers of the Jews had no 
worldly interest to be advanced by lending a favorable 
ear to the pretensions of Jesus ; on the other hand, they 
put in jeopardy all such interests by adopting this course. 
When, then, it is said that many of them believed on 
Jesus, we must suppose that they yielded to the force of 
evidence, and not to the dictates of worldly policy. The 
miracles which Christ performed were so unquestionable, 
so varied and stupendous, that their reason could not 
avoid the conclusion to which they led, — that Jesus was 
a teacher come from God. And, moreover, the doctrines 
which he promulgated, and which they heard from his 
own lips, were so exactly in accordance with their own 
experience ; so much in harmony with that law which is 
written on the hearts of men ; so adapted to the wants 
and miseries of our present state, and so full of grace 
and love, that they were constrained to admit that they 
were clothed with divine authority and power. So far, 
at least, they believed. But here their course was 
arrested. Those convictions which are felt to have 
supreme authority for the mind, and to which the whole 
man is bound to yield prompt and unreserved obedience, 
they resisted, or, at least, did not accompany them with 
an honest and manly avowal. The truth had taken too 
firm a hold on their understanding and conscience to be 
shaken off; but, still, for some cause, they did not openly 
espouse it. In Jesus of Nazareth, whom the Pharisees 
scorned and rejected, they beheld the Christ of God, — 
him who was born King of the Jews, the long expected 



RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS RESISTED. 289 

Messiah, the hope of God's people, Israel, — yet they 
gave no sign of recognition, they uttered no exclamation 
of joy and gratitude, that the Desire of all nations had 
come. They strove to suppress their convictions, or 
cherished them in silence, and carried themselves among 
their associates as those who had no part or interest in , 
the matter. " Many of the chief rulers believed on him, 
but because of the Pharisees they did not confess him 
lest they should be put out of the synagogue ; for they 
loved the praise of men more than the praise of God." 
Here the secret influence which held them spell-bound, 
and directed their course, is brought out. Worldly con- 
siderations prevailed against the convictions of duty. 
They were influenced more by the opinions of men, by 
regard to their reputation, their ease, and worldly pros- 
perity and happiness, than by the approbation and favor 
of God. 

And this example is recorded for the admonition and 
warning of those who should come after ; it is held up as 
a mirror in which multitudes of all ages, under the gos- 
pel, may contemplate themselves. In appropriating, 
then, the words before us to our own use, let us con- 
sider, — 

I. Those convictions of truth and duty which the 
gospel awakens in the minds of those to whom it is 
familiar. There is, doubtless, a popular sense in which 
the word believe is used, that is far short of that life- 
giving, saving power which is generally indicated by 
the word as used in the gospel. Men are said to 
believe when their minds are under the influence of such 
evidence as creates a conviction. Such a conviction 
existed in the minds of the chief rulers indicated in the 
text. They believed on Christ in the sense that they 
had no reasonable doubt that he was the true Messiah, 

25 



290 RELIGIOUS COISTVICTTONS RESISTED. 

sent of God to be the teacher and Saviour of men, 
They believed in the reality of his miracles, and admitted 
them to be an ample confirmation of his divine mission. 
They believed him to be an innocent man, though others 
traduced him ; that he was a holy and harmless man, 
honestly intent on doing good, and that the treatment 
he received from his opposers was nothing short of per- 
secution endured for righteousness' sake. They saw 
nothing fanatical or unreasonable in his teachings, but 
acknowledged that they accorded with truth and sober- 
ness ; that they were fitted to instruct, to reprove, and 
to reform, and to make the doers thereof perfect. In 
such a sense, and to such an extent, at least, did they 
believe. The truth shone on their minds with such 
clearness and power as to constrain their judgment and 
their conscience to acknowledge and approve of it. 
They had no longer the plea of ignorance to justify or 
palliate their indifference or neutrality. They were car- 
ried forward to that limit in moral agency from which 
they could not recede, and where they could not stop 
but with the greatest guilt and peril to their souls. 
Knowledge in moral subjects becomes an instant and 
paramount duty. When truth and right are discussed, 
they are to be espoused both for our own sakes and for 
the sake of others. Hence, to believe and not to confess 
is rebellion against the authority of the truth ; an attempt 
to quench the light of heaven that has entered the mind ; 
a resistance offered to the most sacred convictions of 
which the conscience and heart of man is susceptible. 
And what multitudes of men are in the same position in 
regard to the great truths of the gospel, as is here de- 
scribed ! They have no rational doubt of the truth of 
the Christian scriptures, they have as unqualified a belief 
in them as they have in anything which is not seen and 



RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS RESISTED. 291 

temporal. They have been educated in this belief; it 
has been nurtured in them by the force of example, and 
by a frequent and almost daily recurrence to this divine 
book. They have no more doubt that Jesus was a teacher 
and Saviour come from God, — that he wrought miracles, 
suffered on the cross, rose from the dead, and ascended 
into heaven, — than of any historical event in past time. 
They believe in the doctrine he inculcated, that men 
are in a fallen and ruined condition, and that through 
his blood only can they be delivered from the conse- 
quences of their sins ; that he has made an atonement 
sufficient for the sins of all, and that each man is at 
liberty to come himself, and is bound to encourage all 
others to come with him, and embrace the great salva- 
tion. These are the convictions that have been formed 
in the minds of the great majority of those who live 
under the light of the gospel. They believe on Christ 
in the sense we have described the rulers of the Jews as 
believing on him. They yield their full assent to the 
system which he taught. They have that knowledge 
within them which is identified with duty. They have 
passed the limits within which ignorance may be urged 
in extenuation of neglect. They have reached a point 
where they cannot pause for a moment but at the hazard 
of their souls; — they have a belief which must lead 
them on to obedience, or they stand without excuse 
before God. 

II. We inquire, what we are to understand by con- 
fessing Christ ? When it is^aid of the chief rulers who 
believed on Christ, that they did not confess him, we 
are to understand, doubtless, that they neglected some- 
thing that is essential in order to become a true disciple 
of Jesus. 

We have seen that the belief attributed to them in- 



292 RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS RESISTED. 

volved certain strong convictions of the conscience and 
understanding, that the doctrines which Christ promul- 
gated were true, and consequently that it was the duty 
of all men to submit to the gospel as a rule of life, as 
well as to embrace it as the means of salvation. Now 
what can be meant by confessing Christ but to yield to 
the force of these convictions, and to follow them out in 
our life to the full extent to which they may lead ? In 
other words, that we obey that gospel, the truth and 
divine authority of which we have been constrained to 
admit in our inmost souls. We may have no doubt of 
the truth that Christ is an adequate and willing Saviour, 
that he will not fail to save all who come to him in the 
prescribed way ; but do we confess him, so long as we 
ourselves do not come to him in this way, and actually 
appropriate his salvation, by faith, to ourselves ? We 
may believe that Christ is the rightful sovereign of men ; 
that to him every knee ought to bow, and every tongue 
confess that he is Lord, to the glory of God the Father ; 
but until our souls do thus submit to and own him as 
our Lord, do we in any proper sense confess him ? We 
may believe there is salvation in none other, because 
"there is none other name under heaven given among 
men w T hereby we must be saved;" still, until we are 
constrained actually to inscribe his name on our hearts, 
as all our desire and all our salvation, we do not confess 
him. We may admit that Christ's cause is the cause 
of truth and righteousness ; but we do truly confess him 
only as we identify ourselves with that cause, openly 
avow it, steadfastly adhere to it through evil and 
through good report, and strive to augment its influence 
and power among men by all the aid which our name, 
our example, our exertions may constiute. We confess 
Christ by putting ourselves by the side of Christ in rela- 



RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS RESISTED. 293 

tion to his truth and his cause, and doing for its promul- 
gation and advancement, as we have him for an example. 
Now, in this sense, the chief rulers who believed did not 
confess Christ. They did not follow out their convic- 
tions as far as those convictions would have led them 
if they had followed them at all. They did not take 
Christ to be their pattern and do as he did, openly 
espousing the cause of God's truth and of the world's 
salvation, and lending to it the support and aid of their 
influence and best exertions. Knowing in their hearts 
that the cause was a just and holy one, and possibly 
wishing it success, they held it prudent, under the threat- 
ening aspect of those times, not to expose themselves to 
disgrace and persecution by an avowed alliance with it. 
And what multitudes, with the full light of the gospel 
blazing on their minds, and with such convictions of 
their duty as leave no room for doubt, are imitating and 
even surpassing the example which is here set before 
us ? Probably there is not an impenitent soul present 
who is not chargeable with the inconsistency and guilt 
here exhibited. The convictions of all are in harmony 
with the teachings of Christ : they believe themselves to 
be sinners : they know they are in danger of hell ; they 
are sure that the kingdom of God is come nigh to them, 
and that Christ is willing and able to save them. They 
have no doubts on these points, and neither do they 
doubt that their case is full of peril, " for man knoweth 
not his time." Still, Christ is not confessed by them ; 
they do not embrace him as their Saviour, they do not 
take hold of the exceeding great and precious promises 
extended to them, and which are ratified by blood ; they 
do not espouse his cause nor cast in their lot with him 
for their own and the world's salvation. With all the 
assurance they have, that to separate themselves from 

25* 



294 RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS RESISTED. 

Christ is to lose their own souls, they still say in their 
hearts, " Depart from us ; we desire not the knowledge 
of thy ways." Thus do they resist and, seemingly trifle 
with, the most solemn convictions of their minds, — con- 
victions, perhaps, the strongest they will ever have in 
this world ; convictions, certainly, that leave them with- 
out the excuse of ignorance ; and " after their hard and 
impenitent hearts they treasure up to themselves wrath 
against the day of wrath." 

III. The text reveals the cause of that great neglect 
and sin which are so common to men : " For they loved 
the praise of men more than the praise of God." The 
cause here stated may seem, perhaps, not applicable to 
all cases that occur, or even to a majority of them ; still 
the language admits of an interpretation that will em- 
brace all those influences which the gospel has to 
encounter in the hearts of men. The Jewish rulers did 
not confess Christ, because of the odium and disgrace to 
which it would expose them. It would subject them 
to losses and trials ; wealth, honor, ease, comfort, and 
friends, might all be sacrificed by confessing Christ at 
that day ; yea, everything that depends upon the opinion 
and friendship of the world. Self and worldly interests 
deterred the rulers from confessing Christ; and what 
other reasons than these hinder the sinners of our day 
from coming to Christ and espousing the cause of truth 
and salvation ? The world is the great opposing power 
which Christ and his gospel are sent to overcome. This 
power is predominant in the hearts of the children of 
disobedience, leading them captive at its will. It frowns 
and it flatters ; it deludes with promises, or intimi- 
dates with threats, and so maintains its dominion over 
us. It cannot extinguish the convictions of duty that 
are impressed on our minds, or wholly blind us to our 



RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS RESISTED. 295 

true interests as accountable and immortal beings ; but 
it teaches us to resist these convictions of our souls and 
to neglect the great salvation. And it is because we love 
the world more than we love God that we do not come 
to Christ that we may be saved. No man can serve 
two masters ; we cannot love the world, and at the same 
time confess Christ ; if we hold to the one, we despise 
the other. " Choose ye then this day whom you will 
serve ; if the Lord be God, follow him ; but if Baal, 
follow him." 



8E11M0N XII. 



A SAVING FAITH. 



"AND WHEN HE WAS COME INTO THE HOUSE, THE BLIND MEN CAME TO HIM; 
AND JESUS SAITH UNTO THEM, BELIEVE YE THAT I AM ABLE TO DO THIS? 
THEY SAID UNTO HIM, YEA LORD. THEN TOUCHED HE THEIR EYES, SAYING, 
ACCORDING TO YOUR FAITH BE IT UNTO YOU." — Matt. ix. 28, 29. 



Our Saviour, at the time alluded to in this narrative, 
was at Capernaum, a place which had been greatly 
privileged by his frequent visits and mighty works, and 
which, on account of his being so often there, is styled in 
the context " his own city." This occasion had been 
distinguished by several important events. It was at 
this time that Matthew, a wealthy publican of that city, 
was called out of the custom-house, and added to the 
number of the apostles. The daughter of a certain 
ruler, also, who had died, was restored to life ; a woman 
who had been diseased with an issue of blood twelve 
years was made whole ; a man who had been possessed 
with a devil was delivered from the power of his tor- 
mentor, and finally, two blind men were restored to sight. 
These two men first accosted Christ as he was walking 
in the street, when they cried after him, saying, " Thou 
Son of David, have mercy on us." Not receiving any 
notice from him in this public place, they followed him 
to the house where he had entered in, and there renewed 



A SAVING FAITH. 297 

their request Jesus saith unto them, u Believe ye that I 
am able to do this ?" They said unto him, " Yea, Lord." 
Then touched he their eyes, saying, " According to your 
faith be it unto you." And their eyes were opened. 

I. The first thing to be noticed in the text is the 
great calamity inflicted on these unhappy men. They 
were blind, totally blind, and blind, it would seem, from 
their birth. A greater privation, that is unaccompanied 
with positive suffering, rarely, if ever, befalls a human 
being. To him, day and night are all the same ; form 
and color and proportion are all vaguely apprehended, 
if apprehended at all; the features of kindred and 
friends, the beauty of the fields, the glory of the heavens, 
are all to him as things that are not. No wonder that, 
under such a calamity, men should flee to Him who has 
power to give sight to the blind, and, with importunate 
entreaty, invoke his compassion and aid. But it is to 
be remembered that there is a blindness to the soul as 
well as to the body ; a blindness no less total, no less 
calamitous, no less difficult to be removed ; no less per- 
ilous to the eternal interests of the soul than the other 
is to the security and well-being of the outward man. 
Moreover, the blindness of the soul, unlike that of the 
body, is not a calamity of rare experience among men. 
It is not an evil with which here and there one only is 
afflicted, but an evil that is incident to all alike. Our 
Saviour described the Jews as those who had eyes but 
saw not; and the apostle represents the Gentiles as 
" walking in the vanity of their mind, having their 
understanding darkened, being alienated from the life 
of God through the ignorance that is in them, because 
of the blindness of their hearts." It is under the influ- 
ence of this blindness that the gospel is hid to them that 
are lost ; in whom the god of this world hath blinded 



298 A SAVING FAITH. 

the minds of them that believe not, lest the light of the 
glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, 
should shine unto them. 

Owing to the darkness of their hearts is it, that their 
eyes have not seen, nor their ears heard, neither have 
entered into their hearts the things that God hath pre- 
pared for them that love him. 

II. The next thing to be noticed in the text is the 
sure and all- sufficient remedy for the evil with which 
these men were afflicted. Among the achievements of 
modern art is numbered that of giving sight to one born 
blind. But it is to be acknowledged that this achieve- 
ment is a very rare one ; what nature has been pleased 
to withhold, the art of man can seldom supply. But in 
the days of our Saviour, it might strictly be said, that 
since the beginning of the world it was not heard that 
any man opened the eyes of one that was born blind. 
But the blind men of Capernaum had found one who 
was competent to administer entire relief to their case. 
He could do it instantly ; do it without causing them 
pain ; do it so that it should not need to be done over 
again ; do it without the least chance of a failure, how- 
ever complicate or obstinate might be the nature of the 
disease. And he who could thus extend relief to the 
sightless eye, is sufficient also to remove the darkness 
of the natural heart. The outward miracle which he 
wrought in this case is proof of his skill and power to 
reach the inner man, and to make its deepest, darkest 
chamber " all light in the Lord." It was a part of the 
great commission of Christ to "open the eyes of our 
understanding," and " to give the light of the knowledge 
of the glory of God " to them whom the god of this 
world had blinded. " He hath anointed me to preach 
the gospel to the poor ; he hath sent me to heal the 



A SAVING FAITH. 299 

broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, 
and recovering of sight to the blind." To this Physi- 
cian of the soul are the benighted sons of men directed 
for the cure of those maladies which afflict and consume 
the heart. He is a Physician, to be found, not at Caper- 
naum, or in Jerusalem, but in every place where his 
presence is needed ; on every dark mountain where be- 
nighted sinners wander and are liable to fall. He is an 
accessible Physician to all who need his aid and will 
apply for it. The blind men of Capernaum, when they 
accosted him, in the streets, were repulsed, not through 
want of compassion in Christ, but because then he 
sought to avoid notoriety ; but now, none are repulsed ; 
none sent empty away ; everywhere waiting ; at all 
times ready ; to the needy of all classes attentive and 
condescending; to every case alike competent, — is 
that Son of David, who was exalted to give repentance 
to Israel and to grant the remission of sins. His lan- 
guage, as when he stood on the crowded shores of the 
sea of Galilee, is, " Come unto me all ye that labor and 
are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." 

III. The next thing to be noticedi n the text is the 
condition on which the blind men were taught to ex- 
pect relief. " Jesus saith unto them, believe ye that I 
am able to do this?" Here is the condition, and the 
terms employed indicate, most plainly, that in the ab- 
sence of this persuasion on their part no relief was to be 
expected. Christ undoubtedly knew whether they had 
faith to be healed; but it must be a manifested faith, and 
manifested in some other way than simply in asking for 
sight. They must answer his question, " Believe ye 
that I am able to do this?" He pauses for a reply. 
And they said unto him, " Yea, Lord." And it is no- 
ticeable how constantly, in the miraculous cures which 



300 A SAVING FAITH. 

Christ wrought, this condition is distinctly alluded to as 
a thing strictly required. Cures were not wrought be- 
cause diseases existed and Christ was able to heal them. 
Cures were not wrought because Christ would multiply 
the monuments of his divine power, and hence afford 
the spectator still more evidence of his divine mission. 
Cures were not wrought because the diseased endured 
great privation or suffering. And, finally, cures were 
not wrought because the sufferers earnestly sought and 
passionately implored his aid. They were wrought be- 
cause of their faith. And the same condition is made 
prominent and absolutely essential where healing aid is 
sought for the soul. It is not enough that the soul is 
blind or otherwise diseased by sin ; this is not a reason 
for Christ to heal it. It is not a reason that the healing 
of the plague of the heart is a glorious triumph of Christ's 
power ; it is no honor to grace to save men otherwise 
than Infinite Wisdom has appointed. It is no sufficient 
reason with Christ to save a sinner because he needs 
salvation, and must be forever miserable without his aid. 
Christ is not moved to save sinners because they desire 
to be saved, and most passionately pray and implore 
him to save them. All these did not avail the blind men 
of Capernaum ; all these will not avail the sinner in the 
matter of his soul's salvation. " According to your 
faith," not according to your needs, or your desires, or 
your prayers, — "according to your faith be it unto 
you," was the saying of Christ unto them. And in like 
manner, he says to sinners, " He that believeth shall be 
saved, and he that believeth not shall be damned." You 
may need salvation ; you will certainly perish without 
it ; you may desire it ; you may seek it ; you may fer- 
vently importune for it ; but all this without faith avails 
you nothing. " If ye believe not, ye shall die in your 
sins." But, — 



A SAVING FAITH. 301 

IV. The text not only speaks of the necessity of 
faith, but indicates, in one respect at least, the nature 
of the faith required. " Believe ye that I am able to do 
this ? " An emphasis seems to be laid on the word " able," 
as expressing the particular object of this faith. " They 
said unto him, Yea, Lord," we do believe that thou art 
able. "And he said unto them, According to your faith, 
be it unto you." Faith in Christ's ability was, in this 
case, demanded and professed ; and the request sought 
was granted to that faith which had the sufficiency of 
Christ for its object. The expression, "according to 
your faith," is by some explained to mean, the measure 
of your faith, and not the nature and reality of it. But 
this interpretation is attended with great difficulties. It 
makes faith available, not by its own nature, but by its 
degree ; hence it is not every one that believeth that 
shall be saved, but only those whose faith rises to a 
certain degree. But this is not Scripture. Faith is 
everywhere made a saving condition, — faith, a living, 
substantial element of grace in the soul, — without a 
word being said as to the age of it, or the degree of it. 
But again : the word " according," cannot denote the 
measure or degree of faith, for the reason that the 
promise itself, instead of being absolute, would, on this 
principle, be broken up into parts and fragments. If 
Christ spoke of the degree of this faith, then his promise 
must have been understood as proportioned to the degree. 
If the faith were perfect, then the cure would be perfect ; 
if the faith were less than perfect, then only a part of 
the cure would be wrought. 

And if this is the rule here, it must be so in other 
cases. Where salvation is promised to faith, if the 
promise is limited to the degree of faith, and not deter- 
mined by its nature and reality, then complete pardon, 

26 



302 A SAVING FAITH. 

complete justification and adoption, are received only by 
a faith perfect in degree. And when it is imperfect, 
— "like a grain of mustard-seed," as our Saviour styles 
it, — then is the sinner only in a small degree pardoned, 
justified, and saved. Such are the difficulties of suppos- 
ing, with some, that Christ, instead of appending prom- 
ises to simple acts of faith, limits the measure of the 
promises to the measure of the faith. If this be the 
rule, we may well say, with the apostle, "Who, then, can 
be saved? But, to return to the text, you say you 
believe I am able to do this ; now, then, as you thus 
believe, so be it unto you. That the faith required 
respected the ability or sufficiency of Christ to grant the 
desired aid, is evident from other examples that may be 
adduced. The man who brought to Christ his son, that 
had from a child been possessed of a devil, who often 
threw him into the fire and into the water to destroy 
him, said, " If thou canst do anything, have compassion 
on us, and help us." The sequel shows that Christ laid 
hold on that expression, " If thou canst," as betraying 
that kind of unbelief which would prevent a cure. " If 
thou canst," do you say? I say, if you can believe, 
believe that I am able ; " all things are possible to him 
that believeth." The faith here demanded is manifestly 
that which has the sufficiency of Christ for its object ; 
and unless the disconsolate father would blot out the if 
and say, " thou canst," there was no relief for his son. 

Hence his instant exclamation : Lord, I do believe ; 
help me, if there be any reserve in it. In like manner, 
the faith of the leper had for its object the ability of 
Christ, " Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean." 
He professes no positive belief in the willingness of 
Christ, but a perfect confidence in his power. But here 
was the faith demanded, though the supplicant needed 



A SAVING FAITH. 303 

as yet to be assured of the readiness of Christ to help 
him. If you can trust my power, says Christ, I will 
assure you of my willingness ; be thou clean. When 
Peter began to sink in the waters, and cried, " Lord, save 
me!" what was his unbelief, that well-nigh occasioned 
his destruction, but an unbecoming and sinful distrust 
of the power of his Lord. He believed that Christ was 
able to sustain him on the waves, and while he had this 
faith the surging element was to his feet like the moun- 
tain rock ; but the instant the doubt arose in his mind, 
"if thou canst," the floods parted beneath him, and 
would swallow him up. 

And in all cases may not this implicit, unreserved, 
absorbing persuasion of the all-sufficiency of Christ be 
the distinctive feature of that faith to which Christ is 
pleased to annex his promises, "All things are possible to 
him who believes ? " Believes what ? That thou canst 
help us. " Believe ye that I am able ? " We believe 
that thou art able ; then be it as you believe. St. Paul 
describes his faith in Christ in these words : " I know 
whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able 
to keep that which I have committed unto him against 
that day." He was doubtless persuaded that Christ was 
willing to keep; but he says nothing of this; he inti- 
mates that a belief in his willingness was not the chief 
requisite in faith, but the persuasion that he was able to 
keep. 

And, let me ask, is not this the highest and most diffi- 
cult thing for the mind to apprehend and rest upon 
in those works that are peculiar to God ? Was it as 
difficult for the blind men to believe in the willingness 
as in the power of Christ to restore their sight ? Would 
they not rather take it for granted that he would desire 
to help them, provided he was able and it was consistent? 



504 A SAVING FAITH 

If I mistake not, then, our text throws some light on the 
mind in regard to the nature of saving faith. There may 
be a persuasion of Christ's willingness to help us, while 
we cherish a doubt of his ability. This, if it be any 
faith at all, is a faith which Christ will challenge: " Be- 
lievest thou that I am able ? " Again, there may be a full 
persuasion of his ability, and yet not an equal persuasion 
that he will help us ; but to such a faith Christ is pleased 
to say, " I will ; be thou clean." 

But does any one answer and say, This is making 
saving faith a very common grace in the world ; for who 
that believes the gospel can doubt the sufficiency of Christ 
to save all he chooses to save? And to this I might 
reply, Can any one doubt the existence and perfections 
of God, who has the Bible in his hand, or who breathes 
the air of heaven, or whose eye traverses the ample field 
of the Creator's works ? And yet this same inspired word 
says, " The fool (the sinner) hath said in his heart there 
is no God." Surely an atheist is a rare thing in a 
Christian land, and yet in the judgment of God all 
men are atheists by nature. Just in the same sense, 
then, that men are atheists with the Bible in their hands 
are they unbelievers in the sufficiency of Christ with the 
gospel in their hands. Do you say that all men believe 
in the sufficiency of Christ to save, who believe in the 
gospel ? True, they believe in the one just as much as 
they believe in the other, and in neither do they, like the 
devils, so believe as to tremble. Do you say, If this is 
faith, then all men will finally believe ; believe when his 
infinite power and glory are revealed, as they will be 
when the heavens and earth shall flee away at his pres- 
ence ? I answer, No, not then will sinners believe in 
his power to save, for the power to save the impenitent 
he will not then possess ; and of course it cannot be the 



A SAVING FAITH. 305 

object of faith. Christ's power to give salvation to 
men is limited to time, to the day of salvation ; and 
when this day expires the work of it is closed, and the 
kingdom delivered up to the Father, and the Son enters 
upon the glorious rest of an eternal Sabbath. " He that 
is filthy will be filthy still," and the power to save 
will be as though no atonement existed. Do you still 
say that all men who believe the gospel believe in the 
sufficiency of Christ to save ? Why, then, are they not 
saved by that power ? In cases where we are needy and 
dependent, we resort for aid to those who, as we believe, 
are able to help us. So long as my confidence in the 
skill o£ the physician is unshaken and complete, I com- 
mit my diseased body to his care, and lie quietly and 
passively in his hands. So to the pilot, to whom, as we 
believe, not a reef or bar or a dangerous coast is un- 
known, we cheerfully commit the helm, and feel a quiet 
assurance that under his guidance the ship will ride 
safely to her moorings. Why, then, does not the sinner 
commit his soul to Christ, if he believes that Christ is 
able to save him ? Alas ! he indulges in himself low 
thoughts of the exalted Son of God, the glorious mani- 
festation of the Godhead in human flesh, the Alpha 
and the Omega, the King of kings and Lord of lords. 
He will confide in man, a worm of the dust, but not in 
the God who made him. When the sinner becomes 
concerned about his soul and its eternal welfare, he 
begins to consider what work he has to do to obtain 
salvation. He says to himself, I must get religion, and 
then I shall be saved, and without it I shall be lost. And 
what is religion ? Why, it is some great blessing that 
lies hid somewhere, and I must go in pursuit of it, and 
try all my skill to find it ; or it is a blessing somewhere 
locked up and secured, and I must gird up my loins with 

26* 



306 A SAVING FAITH. 

strength, and force my way along until I can come where 
it is. And so he goes on, seeking and striving and pur- 
suing, under the full persuasion that there is something, 
he hardly knows what, but something which he must 
do, and which Christ cannot do, or he shall be lost. And 
though at every step Christ says to him, Foolish man, 
forbear ; without me you can do nothing ; only believe 
that I am able, and all things will be possible to you, — 
yet he regards it not, but holds on to self-dependence 
until he is caught by some delusive hope, or plunges 
into despair of all hope. Yes, all the seeking, the work- 
ing, the striving of the awakened sinner, is but a sinful 
unbelief in Christ as a complete and all-sufficient Sa- 
viour, and a vain attempt to do something which Christ 
is not able to do. It is the perilous attempt to work out 
their own righteousness, instead of submitting to the 
righteousness of God, which is by faith in Christ his 
Son. This, fellow-sinner, is your case ; it is your con- 
demnation that you will not believe in the sufficiency of 
Him whom God hath sent to save you. Thus you live 
in all your sins, ruined, lost, and hell is naked to receive 
you ; and the great God our Saviour draws near and 
says, Look unto me and be ye saved ; look to me as your 
hope, your only hope ; your all-sufficient hope ; believe 
that I am able to do this, and commit your soul to me, 
as Paul did, in the full persuasion that I am able to keep 
it, and your redemption is at hand. But you turn away, 
saying, I must save myself or be lost. And lost, irre- 
coverably, eternally lost you must be, so long as you 
refuse to believe that Christ is mighty to save, even to 
the uttermost, all who come unto God through Him. 



SERMON XIII. 



THE RELIGION OF THE GOSPEL A LIFE. 



"BUT the angel op the lord by night opened the prison doors, and 

BROUGHT THEM FORTH, AND SAID, GO, STAND AND SPEAK IN THE TEMPLE 
TO THE PEOPLE ALL THE WORDS OP THIS LIFE." — Acts V. 19, 20. 1 



The events recorded in this connection are full of 
instruction to the Christian reader of all times. It 
was the period in which the foundations of the church, 
the kingdom of God among men, were laid ; its distinc- 
tive character and aims developed ; its order, discipline, 
worship, and sacramental rites instituted or exemplified 
in practice ; when its ministry was baptized with the 
Holy Ghost and with fire, and its liberties asserted 
against the persecuting powers of earth. Here we 
behold the religion of Moses and of the prophets, cor- 
rupted by the foulest error and superstition, and dis- 
graced by an unworthy priesthood, but supported by 
the arm of civil power, arrayed in open and irrecon- 
cilable conflict with the truth as it is in Jesus. Here 
we discover with what implacable hostility to Christ 
and the course of human salvation the heart of man 
may be inspired ; and, at the same time, how unavail- 
ing is all human power, when employed to resist the 
purposes of the Almighty. And, once more, we here 

1 1848. 



308 THE RELIGION OF THE GOSPEL A LIFE. 

perceive the limits which God has set to the authority 
of man in matters of truth and religion, the divine right 
which every man has to true liberty of conscience, and 
the obligation he is under to disregard the authority 
that would restrict this liberty wherewith Christ maketh 
free, or hinder him in the work to which God has mani- 
festly called him. 

Strong were the hopes which the Jewish party cher- 
ished that they had effectually suppressed the new doc- 
trine which had agitated the cities and villages of Judea, 
when, by the most ignominious form known under the 
Roman laws, they had put its Teacher to death. But 
these hopes were of short duration, and destined to end 
in utter disappointment and confusion. In the morning 
of the second day after his crucifixion tidings were 
brought to the high-priest's palace, by the guard who 
watched at the sepulchre, that Jesus had risen and 
shown himself to his disciples. Next came the intelli- 
gence that he had ascended into heaven in the presence 
of many witnesses. Then followed the report that the 
Spirit of God had come upon the disciples ; that they 
were endued with the gift of tongues, to proclaim to all 
nations that were present at the feast " the wonderful 
works of God ; " and that the people were listening 
with profound interest to their testimony. No longer 
terrified by their adversaries, the disciples openly ap- 
peared in the temple, and spoke of Jesus and of his 
resurrection, and exhorted the people to repent, and be 
baptized in his name for the remission of their sins ; 
and thousands gladly received the word, and the multi- 
tude of them that believed were of one heart and of 
one soul. 

This new and unexpected development of the doctrine 
of Jesus, casting, as it did, into the shade all that had 



THE RELIGION OF THE GOSPEL A LIFE. 309 

been witnessed before, roused again into activity the 
spirit of persecution. The apostles were brought into 
the court of the high priest, and commanded not to 
speak at all, nor teach in the name of Jesus. But these 
men, no longer of the timid spirit which they betrayed 
when their Master was arrested, boldly replied, "Whether 
it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more 
than unto God, judge ye ? For we cannot but speak 
the things we have seen and heard." Having asserted 
their right and their purpose to do the Lord's bidding, 
and not man's, they went forth, and everywhere, in the 
street and in the temple, "with great power gave witness 
of the resurrection of the Lord;" and the effect was, 
what may always be expected when the church and her 
servants with united, earnest, and confiding hearts en- 
gage in the work of the Lord ; for the Lord worked with 
them, and " believers were the more added to the Lord, 
multitudes both of men and women." " Then the high- 
priest rose up, and all they that were with him, and were 
filled with indignation, and laid their hands on the apos- 
tles, and put them in the common prison." " But the 
angel of the Lord by night opened the prison doors and 
brought them forth, and said, Go stand and speak in the 
temple to the people all the words of this life." Here 
we should notice how God, in a miraculous manner, 
sanctions disobedience to human authority, w T hen that 
authority is arrayed against the word of God. The 
apostles had been arrested for disobeying their rulers, 
but the angel of the Lord sets them at large. They had 
been commanded not to speak at all in the name of 
Jesus ; but God commands them to speak boldly, and to 
declare his whole counsel. Civil authority is doubtless 
of divine origin, and in all matters to which it properly 
extends is entitled to respect and obedience. "Unto 



310 THE RELIGION OF THE GOSPEL A LIFE. 

the higher powers," says the apostles, " let every soul be 
subject. For there is no power but of God; the powers 
that be are ordained of God. Whoever, therefore, re- 
sisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God." And 
these instructions he grounds on the general maxim 
which follows : " For rulers are not a terror to good 
works, but to the evil." From the reason, then, which 
he assigns in support of the duty of obedience, we may 
infer that, when human authority is so far perverted as 
to employ the terror with which it is armed to restrain 
men from good works and force them to do evil, then 
our obligations to it are changed ; and, as the apostles 
said on the occasion before us, " we ought to obey God 
rather than men." 

Again, the text leads us to notice that when the cause 
of truth is boldly assailed by its adversaries, it is proper 
that it should be sustained with equal boldness by its 
friends. Our Saviour laid it down as a general direc- 
tion to his disciples, that when they were persecuted in 
one city they should flee to another. But this rule has 
its limitations and exceptions. The apostles were per- 
secuted and cast into prison, but they were not at liberty 
to flee in pursuit of a people whose minds might be 
more favorably affected towards the truth which they 
promulgated. They must remain in the city with their 
opposers, and thereby show to the church and the world 
that they did not fear what man could do unto them. 
Nay, they were not at liberty to retire into the obscure 
parts of the city, and there, in a private and secret man- 
ner, instruct such as were disposed to hear them. They 
were directed to occupy the most public places of resort, 
yea, to take their stand in the very temple of the Jews, 
and there boldly speak in the name of Jesus to all who 
came up to worship. It was the Lord's house, and no 



THE RELIGION OF THE GOSrEL A LIFE. 311 

man could forbid that his word should be proclaimed 
there. It was a house of prayer " for all nations," and 
it was suitable that there the nations should hear the 
glad tidings of great joy which were sent forth to cheer 
the hearts of all people. 

But my object at this time is to consider, — 

1. In what sense the religion of the gospel is denomi- 
nated a life, " and speak unto the people all the words 
of this life." The religion of the gospel, then, I remark, 
in the first place, is a life, in distinction from mere opin- 
ions. True religion, as it is founded in revealed truth, 
implies, doubtless, a knowledge and belief of the truth. 
Not to believe the truth is, according to the apostle, to 
have pleasure in unrighteousness ; that is, to be devoted 
to a life of sin. But the mind may acquire a set of 
opinions in regard to the doctrines taught by Christ, 
and these opinions may be correct, and still be destitute 
of faith. Opinion is confined to the understanding ; but 
it is "with the heart that man believeth unto righteous- 
ness." The one is a judgment formed ; the other, a 
conviction, a sentiment felt. Simple opinion only serves 
to satisfy the mind, while faith is a power or spirit 
which rouses it to a moral conflict with the powers of 
darkness and with spiritual wickedness in high places. 
" Knowledge," says the apostle, " pufFeth up," but " faith 
purifies the heart and overcomes the world." 

2. The religion of the gospel is a life in distinction 
from mere forms and observances. We do not say that 
religion has no forms ; for it is by forms only that it can 
receive an outward manifestation. To deprive religion 
of these would be like depriving the tree of the fruit by 
which it is adorned and made useful to man. But there 
may be the outward, solemn observance of religion, 
without the inward fear and love of God pervading the 



312 THE RELIGION OF THE GOSPEL A LIFE. 

soul. God may be worshipped with the lips, while the 
heart is far from him. There may be the form of god- 
liness, as the apostle expresses it, without the power. 
It was because this religion had degenerated into a mere 
set of outward observances, that the Lord uttered this 
terrible rebuke to his ancient people : " When ye come 
to appear before me, who hath required this at your 
hands, to tread my courts, bring no more vain obla- 
tions; incense is an abomination unto me; the new 
moons and Sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot 
away with ; it is iniquity ; even the solemn meeting, 
your new moons, and your appointed feasts, my soul 
hateth ; they are a trouble unto me : I am weary to 
bear them." 

3. The religion of the gospel is a life, because it com- 
mences in the quickening influences of the Spirit. The 
moral state of men by nature is designated in Scripture 
by the term "death." They are without holiness, 
because they have not the life of God within them ; 
because they " are dead in sins." Now, it is by reversing 
this state that man becomes the subject of true religion ; 
instead of being dead in sin he becomes alive to God. 
The change begins in a birth of the soul, and this is 
wrought by a special divine power. Hence the Son of 
God, because he came to save the world by reconciling 
it to God, is said to " have life in himself," and to 
quicken the will ; yea, to be " the life of men." He 
came to impart a new life to those that were dead, and 
by this life to qualify them for heaven. Hence, too, the 
work of the Holy Spirit is represented as consisting 
preeminently in giving to and perfecting in the soul the 
life of God. " It is the Spirit that quickeneth." " You 
hath he quickened who were dead in trespasses and 
sins." " Except a man be born of water and of the 



THE RELIGION OF THE GOSPEL A LIFE. 313 

Spirit he cannot see the kingdom of God." " Whoso- 
ever believeth that Jesus is the Christ, is born of God." 

This language is descriptive of a soul raised from a 
state of sin to one of holiness; and it is done by a new 
birth. It is not a setting up of new opinions simply in 
the understanding, a chaining down of the outer man 
to a set of solemn forms and observances, but planting 
life, which is the image of God, with the powers and 
sympathies and enjoyments of life, where death, the 
death of sin, before reigned with all its darkness, and 
silence, and woe. 

4. The religion of the gospel is denominated a life, 
because its elements are living powers. Religion is not 
a mere negation, the absence of moral evil ; it is a posi- 
tive state of the soul, one of earnest, and, it may be, 
intense activity in striving, overcoming, and reaching 
forward to a higher, holier, happier state ; and all this 
betokens the presence and agency of living powers in 
the depths of the soul. Even the tree by its yearly 
growth, its luxuriant foliage, and abundant fruit, gives 
evidence that the mysterious powers of life are at work 
within it. No man thinks of referring the phenomena 
he beholds to an outward or mechanical agency ; and 
the powers of life, not of mere mechanism, are at work 
also in the soul that is born of God. Love is an element 
of true religion, and love is a working, modifying power. 
It is the fulfilling of the Law ; it is keeping the com- 
mandments ; it is what affinity in natural bodies is, — 
the principle that attracts, unites, and assimilates the 
loving subject to the loved object. It transforms the 
creature in whom it is planted into the image of the 
Creator. It is styled by the apostle "the bond of perfect- 
ness," by which all in whom it dwells become one in 
Christ Jesus. Faith, too, is an element of true religion, 

27 



314 THE EELTGION OF THE GOSPEL A LIFE. 

for without it it is impossible to please God. And faith 
is not dead, but a living and life-giving energy. It 
purifies the heart ; it works by love ; it overcomes the 
world. " This is the victory which overcometh the world, 
even our faith." Hope, in like manner, is an element 
of Christianity ; and this, too, is a cheering, impulsive 
power in the soul, and not a mere calculation or judg- 
ment of the understanding. Hope "is an anchor of the 
soul, sure and steadfast." Having this hope in us, we 
purify ourselves, even as Christ is pure. " We are saved 
by hope ;" yea, "we rejoice in hope of the glory of God." 
Such are the properties ascribed to hope as a constituent 
of religion in the soul, and these are all the properties of 
a living power — a power which tends to promote that 
life " which is hid with Christ in God." 

Once more : the religion of the gospel is denominated 
a life, because it exhibits the properties of a life that is 
constantly renewing and that never ends. There is per- 
manency to it ; and this is one of the attributes of life. 
There is not to the soul that is born of God a succession 
of life and death, as of sleeping and waking to the body, 
but a life whose powers are never extinguished, never 
suspended. " Because I live," says Christ, " ye shall live 
also." " Your life is hid with Christ in God." " Who- 
soever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." 
Growth is a property of life, and growth, not from out- 
ward mechanism, but from unseen, mysterious powers 
working within us, — a growth, in short, conformable to 
the type of that order or class to which it belongs. Now, 
it is thus that the soul, once born from above, grows in 
knowledge and grace till it comes to the fulness of the 
stature of the perfect man in Christ Jesus. As it is 
created after God in righteousness and true holiness, 
so does it grow up into the likeness of God, being 



THE RELIGION OF THE GOSPEL A LIFE. 315 

transformed from the image of the earthly into the 
image of the heavenly. " But we all with open face 
beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are 
changed into the same image from glory to glory, even 
as by the Spirit of the Lord." But enough has been 
said to show that the religion of Christ is truly a life in 
the soul, yea, and the highest and noblest form of life ; 
for it is divine in its origin, and eternal in its duration. 
" This is life eternal, that they might know thee, the only 
true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou has sent." 

II. We proceed to inquire what is meant by " the 
words of this life." By this expression we are to under- 
stand, doubtless, those truths which concern the religion 
of Christ, the life of God in the soul. 1st. They are 
the truths which affirm the absence of this life in men 
by nature, as when it is said, " Ye are dead in tres- 
passes and sins," " by nature the children of wrath." 
" Every imagination of the thoughts of man's heart is 
only evil and that continually." "They are all gone out 
of the way, they are together become unprofitable ; there 
is none that seeketh after God ; there is none that doeth 
good." This language affirms that men by nature are 
all unholy and sinful ; without God in the world, and 
having no hope ; and these truths it is essential that all 
men understand, in order that they should attain to the 
life of God. 

Again : by " the words of this life " we are to under- 
stand the truths which exhibit the nature of this life and 
the source whence it is derived. As it is something which 
every man must seek in order to find, it is important to 
know what he is to seek, and where to find it. This life 
consists essentially in the moral resemblance of our souls 
to God — in being created after him, or according to 
him, in righteousness and true holiness. Hence we are 



316 THE KELIGION OF THE GOSPEL A LIFE. 

commanded to be "conformed to God;" to be "follow- 
ers of God as dear children ;" to be holy because he is 
holy. And if we know what we need, and ask where 
we shall find it, we are taught by " the words of this 
life." " Neither is there salvation in any other ; for there 
is none other name under heaven given among men 
whereby we must be saved." " Verily, verily I say unto 
you," are the words of Christ, "the hour cometh, and 
now is, that the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of 
God, and they that hear shall live." And to encourage 
all who would come, but fear to venture, he adds this 
word of life to all his other invitations and assurances: 
" Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, 
and I will give you rest." And again : " Him that 
cometh unto me I will in nowise cast out." 

Once more : by " the words of this life " we are to 
understand the truths which exhibit the necessity of this 
life to the salvation of men. As it is said, "Except ye re- 
pent, ye shall all likewise perish." " If ye believe not that 
I am he, ye shall die in your sins." " Without holiness 
no man shall see the Lord." Whatever, then, men are 
to know and believe ; whatever they are required to do 
or to be, in order to be saved ; nay, whatever serves to 
awaken them to a sense of their condition as sinners, 
and to rouse them to an earnest and timely effort to 
escape the wrath to come, is included in the phrase, 
" the words of this life." 

III. Let us notice the charge given to the apostles 
and to all who have the word of reconciliation commit- 
ted unto them: " Go, stand and speak in the temple to 
the people all the words of this life." The temple was 
a national edifice, and claimed by the Jews for the sup- 
port of the established religion ; but the apostles were 
commanded to go thither, for there the people were 



THE RELIGION OF THE GOSPEL A LIFE. 3 IT 

assembled, and to plant the cross by the side of the 
altar, and to proclaim boldly the doctrine, that " neither 
circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but 
a new creature." This doctrine was offensive to the 
Jews, and had already subjected the apostles to impris- 
onment, and might expose them to death; but return 
they must, and in the presence of their opposers exhort 
the people to " repent that their sins might be blotted 
out." They were not at liberty to avoid the offensive 
part of their message, and preach to the people only 
what might be tolerated by all. On the other hand, 
they were charged, irrespective of the likings or dislik- 
ings of their hearers, to speak " to the people all the 
words of this life." And this charge is, in substance, 
binding on all who succeed the apostles in the work of 
the ministry, or who aspire to be fellow-laborers in the 
kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ. 

Infinite Wisdom foresaw what man in his deep de- 
pravity and manifold errors and delusions needed, and 
has published a gospel commensurate with his needs, 
embracing neither more nor less than what his absolute 
safety required. There is not one statement too many 
or too strong ; not a precept or doctrine, not a promise 
or threatening, but was needful for the safety of those 
who are ordained to eternal life. He, then, who muti- 
lates the gospel in one iota of its message may destroy 
the power and efficacy of that message to you or to me. 
To keep back anything may be keeping back that very 
thing which to us is the wisdom and power of God 
unto salvation. If the life of God is by nature quenched 
in the hearts of men, and they are dead in sins : if the 
only righteousness which can avail them is that which 
is derived from the meritorious sufferings and death of 
the Lord's Christ; if they are dependent on the Spirit 

27* 



318 THE RELIGION OF THE GOSPEL A LIFE. 

for that new life without which they cannot see the 
kingdom of God; if there is a day appointed in which 
God will judge the world by Jesus Christ ; if salvation 
is provided for all who will accept it on the terms of the 
gospel, and everlasting punishment for all who reject 
or neglect it, — then these truths must, each and all, be 
spoken, and spoken plainly, to such as will hear, or God, 
who will have all men to be saved, will add to us the 
plagues that are written in his book. 

And if such an imperative charge is laid upon all who 
pretend to speak the words of this life, what shall be 
the end of those who hear not, or, hearing, obey not the 
gospel of God ? This, fellow-sinner, is a question for 
you to answer, — for you who have spent your days 
within the sound of the gospel, and still have "no 
hope," and are "without God in the world." All "the 
words of this life " have been spoken to you, and these 
are they which shall judge you in the last day. 



SERMON XIY. 



CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 



" WALK IN WISDOM TOWARD THEM THAT ARE WITHOUT, REDEEMING THE 

time." — Col. iv. 5. 1 

In this connection the apostle notices, in a brief 
manner, certain duties which rest indiscriminately on 
all who name the name of Christ. And the first in 
order is one which they owe to themselves, namely, 
to cultivate and evince a prayerful spirit. " Continue 
in prayer, and watch in the same, with thanksgiving." 
To continue in prayer is to preserve the mind in a 
prayerful frame ; it is to feel, habitually, our dependence 
on God and our unworthiness of his mercies ; it is a 
thirsting for God, as the fountain of all good, and a 
preparation of the heart to engage, on all suitable 
occasions, in the exercise of prayer, with gratitude and 
delight. We watch unto prayer when we anticipate 
all prayer, especially all appointed seasons for prayer, 
and guard against all occurrences which may prevent 
our engaging in the duty, or distract our thoughts and 
cool the fervor of our desires. Now, here lies the first 
and most important duty of the Christian, because on 
this prayerful frame of heart depends the right discharge 

1 1845. 



320 CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 

of all other duties. The soul that is pervaded with the 
spirit of prayer is fitted, morally, for all the work where- 
unto the Lord calls it ; while, in the absence of this 
spirit, it is qualified to do nothing satisfactorily to itself 
or acceptable to God. 

The duty next in order, which the apostle enjoins on 
Christians, is to be always mindful in their prayers of 
those who labor in word and doctrine : " Withal pray- 
ing also for us, that God would open unto us a door of 
utterance, to speak the mystery of Christ." On God* 
alone are ministers dependent for the success which 
attends their labors. God must open the door of utter- 
ance, or it is in vain that they attempt to unfold the 
mystery of Christ. The word dispensed must become 
the wisdom and power of God, or it will be for the 
destruction rather than for the edification of those who 
hear it. But God's blessing on his ministers and their 
labors, the success which crowns their efforts for the 
prosperity of the church and the salvation of the im- 
penitent, is in proportion to that continual, earnest, and 
believing prayer which pervades the hearts of his people. 
Hence the apostle besought an interest in their prayers, 
both for himself and for all to whom the word of recon- 
ciliation was committed, that this word might have free 
course and be glorified. 

Another duty incumbent on believers is that which is 
enjoined in the text, and is involved in those relations 
which all Christians on earth sustain to the impenitent 
around them. " Walk in wisdom toward them that are 
without, redeeming the time." In elucidating the pre- 
cept here laid down, it will be convenient to inquire who 
are the persons to be affected by the duty enjoined ; what 
is implied in the duty ; the encouragement we have to 
perform it, and the consequences of neglecting or delay- 
ing it. 



CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 821 

I. Who are the persons to be affected by the fulfilment 
or neglect of the duty enjoined in the text ? There is, 
indeed, an important sense in which all who witness the 
deportment of Christians are influenced by it. Chris- 
tians powerfully affect each other by their daily walk 
and conversation. The happy or deplorable results of 
individual example may be traced in every Christian 
society. One member truly devoted to God, denying 
himself all ungodliness, earnest in doing good, steadfast 
in the truth, faithful in all covenant relations, abounding 
in liberality, meek and temperate in his words and 
actions, and of a prayerful spirit, will not fail to exert 
an influence for good on the whole body with which he 
is connected. And so, too, if he be devoted to the 
world, seeking his own and not the things which are 
Christ's, will he dishearten the exertions and lower the 
tone of piety through the whole church. Hence, if the 
church alone is to be regarded, it becomes every Chris- 
tian to take heed to his example. 

But, in the text, the apostle contemplates the influ- 
ence of Christian example, as exerted in another direc- 
tion. The influence of Christians is not confined to the 
church ; it goes forth, for good or evil, on the world 
around them. There are those " that are without." 
They belong not to the family of Christ; they have 
never fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before 
them ; they have no portion in the kingdom of Christ 
and of God. They are " aliens from the commonwealth 
of Israel, and strangers to the covenant of promise, hav- 
ing no hope, and without God in the world." They are 
immortal beings, but they have not laid up in store a 
good foundation against the time to come. They are 
precious souls whom Christ loved, and for whom he 
gave himself unto death, even the death of the cross ; 



322 CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 

but they " have trodden under foot the Son of God, and 
counted the blood of the covenant wherewith he was 
sanctified an unholy thing." For them the Sabbath was 
sanctified, and to them the gospel is preached, and with 
them the Holy Spirit has striven; but hitherto they 
have resisted the grace of God, and after their hard and 
impenitent hearts have treasured up wrath against the 
day of wrath, and the revelation of the righteous judg- 
ment of God. Such are the beings by whom the church 
everywhere is surrounded ; for the whole world lieth in 
wickedness. Such are the beings who daily pass before 
the eyes of every Christian. They are found in our 
families, and among our children, and relatives, and 
friends. Such are the beings, O Christian, whose eyes 
watch all your conduct, whose ears are open to all your 
words, and whose faithful memories treasure up for 
their own weal or woe the thousand deeds which you 
have done or neglected to do. These are the children of 
disobedience, who must be brought into the fold of the 
great Shepherd, or be left to take their portion with the 
" fearful and unbelieving, and the abominable, and mur- 
derers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, 
and all liars; who shall have their part in the lake that 
burneth with fire and brimstone, which is the second 
death." These are the souls " that are without," and 
whose character and everlasting destiny are to be influ- 
enced by your walk and example. 

II. What is implied in the language of the text, 
" Walk in wisdom toward them that are without " ? 
It will be noticed that the apostle alludes in this con- 
nection to the example of professed Christians. He 
does not speak here of the instruction they shall give, 
but the walk they shall exhibit. He does not address 
them as teachers, sent forth to counsel, exhort, or admon- 



CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 323 

ish their fellow- men, but simply as believers who are 
living a life in the flesh, in daily intercourse with the 
men of the world, sharing in the labors and enterprises 
of men, feeling the influences of the world, and plied 
with its temptations ; and his object is to put each one 
on his guard, and invite all to a life so exemplary that 
none shall stumble and fall by reason of their incon- 
sistent walk. " Let Christian propriety mark all your 
intercourse with c them that are without.' " Let sound 
discretion govern all your plans and actions ; be on your 
guard against all the temptations of the world, and the 
wiles of the devil. Walk in the light, and under the 
guidance of that "wisdom which is from above, and 
which is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, easy to be 
entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without par- 
tiality and without hypocrisy." The whole force of the 
precept, then, applies manifestly to the example of 
Christians as exerting a salutary or disastrous influence 
on the souls of the impenitent. The apostle strives to 
induce each professor to live in such a manner as true 
wisdom would dictate, if he would do the least possi- 
ble injury and the greatest possible good to impenitent 
men. 

Among the things, then, involved in the precept before 
us, I shall proceed to particularize some which Christians 
are tempted to disregard, and by so doing greatly injure 
the souls of men. 

1. Strict integrity and probity in all our dealings with 
men. In a world where gain is accounted as godliness, 
and where respectability and influence depend more on 
wealth than anything else, it should hardly surprise us 
that all the arts of overreaching and fraud should be 
resorted to as the means of getting rich. But if the 
servants of mammon choose to employ such means, the 



324 CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFOPwE THE IMPENITENT. 

children of the kingdom are not at liberty to do so. 
Nay, the doors of God's kingdom are eternally closed 
against those who do these things. The covetous man 
shall not inherit the kingdom of God. True wisdom 
prescribes no such course for him who is exerting an 
influence on the character and destiny of the souls of 
men. Better that the whole church be seared with 
poverty and want, than enriched by frauds, and false- 
hoods, and oppression. The first thing, then, the world 
demands of the Christian is, that he be a just man, a 
man of truth and uprightness in all his transactions. 
Let him swerve from this character, and his influence 
on sinners, except for evil, is dead, twice dead, 
plucked up by the roots. Henceforth he is powerful 
only to destroy. In this matter, then, let him avoid 
even the appearance of evil ; let him " walk in wisdom 
towards them that are without." 

2. The precept in the text implies that we exercise 
great caution in our manner of speaking of our fellow- 
men. Of all offences, those of the tongue are perhaps 
the most injurious, and, at the same time, the most 
easily perpetrated. What is taken from us by fraud 
and violence, we may recover again ; or, at least, the 
possession of it may not be essential to our peace and 
usefulness; but by a single word our reputation, our 
influence, our hopes may be most seriously impaired, if 
not irretrievably lost. " The tongue," says the Spirit of 
God, "is afire, a world of iniquity; it defileth the whole 
body, and setteth on fire the course of nature ; and it is 
set on fire of hell." No man can tame it. " It is an 
unruly evil, full of deadly poison. Therewith bless we 
God, even the Father; and therewith curse we men, 
which are made after the similitude of God." Wisdom, 
then, is surely to be exercised in our walk towards them 



CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 325 

that are without, and whom we are sent to win back 
to God and to heaven. By our words — always true, 
always kind, faithful, and conciliating — we may secure 
their confidence and esteem; and by our words, too, we 
may arouse their wrath ; we may alienate their confi- 
dence ; we may cast them forever beyond the reach of a 
better influence whicli we may strive in vain to extend 
to them ; we may destroy their souls. O, what havoc 
has been made of the souls of men by this unruly mem- 
ber! What precious treasures of Christian influence 
sacrificed by it in one unguarded moment! Who of 
us has not mourned in shame and sorrow that he hath 
not put a bridle on his tongue while the wicked was 
before him? 

3. The precept in the text is violated by all immoral 
and scandalous acts, by which the Christian life is dis- 
graced. Hypocrites and self-deceivers are doubtless in 
the visible church, and while there they are loaded with 
all the responsibilities of the true disciple. Their rela- 
tion to the church invests them with an influence which 
otherwise they would not have, and, of course, imposes 
on them a duty which otherwise would not be theirs. 
Sin, open and scandalous, exerts in their case the same 
disastrous influence on the souls of men as it does in 
the case of any other professed Christian. But the 
hypocrite and the self-deceiver are not the only ones 
in the church by whom offences may come. Eminent 
saints have brought a reproach on religion, and thereby 
cast a stumbling-block in the way of the wicked, by be- 
ing overcome in the hour of sudden temptation. But all 
scandal in the church is to be lamented, not merely on 
account of the guilt which attaches to the offender, but 
also because of its deplorable effect on them " that are 
without." The world has a right to expect that profes- 

28 



826 CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 

sors of religion shall keep themselves unspotted from 
open and scandalous sins. They have a right to expect 
that the professed children of the kingdom shall put off 
the works of darkness and put on the armor of light ; 
yea, that they walk honestly as in the day; not in rioting 
and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, 
not in strife and envying. And he who doeth these things 
and the like, must know that not only his influence as 
a man, but the influence he derives from his connection 
with the church, is all exerted injuriously, and disas- 
trously perhaps, on the souls of the impenitent. 

4. The precept in the text requires that Christians 
strive to adorn their profession in all things, and to exert 
a positive and salutary influence on the souls of men. 
We " walk in wisdom," not merely by abstaining from 
that which works for evil, but by doing, also, that which 
works for good. It is not enough that we refrain from 
destroying ; it should be our earnest endeavor to save. 
The impenitent may find in us no encouragement to 
sin, no excuse for delaying repentance ; but do they 
also find in our daily example that which reproves them 
for their sins ; that which makes them uneasy in their 
present condition ; that which arouses their fears and 
awakens their slumbering consciences; that which com- 
mends the religion of the gospel to their hearts ; that, 
in fine, which almost persuades them to be Christians ? 
Such is the influence which Paul the apostle, and which 
the Lord Jesus Christ would have all the disciples exert. 
For this they must earnestly strive who would " walk in 
wisdom toward them that are without." Having thus 
far considered the class of persons to be affected by an 
observance of the precept enjoined in the text, and some 
of the particulars comprised in the precept, we proceed 
to consider, — 



CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 327 

III. The importance of the precept here laid down. 
And its importance will appear when we consider the 
proneness of Christians to disregard the duty it com- 
prises. It is, indeed, essential to the Christian character 
to cherish an interest in the welfare of all souls, and, 
hence, to desire and labor for the conversion of the 
impenitent. These are the feelings of God, the Father 
of all men : " For he hath no pleasure in the death of 
him that dieth, but that he turn and live." And how 
can we be like God, unless our hearts are the seat of the 
same benevolent desires? Christ, too, loved the souls 
of men, even when they were dead in trespasses and 
sins, and came down from heaven " to seek and save 
that which was lost." " And if any man have not the 
spirit of Christ, he is none of his." No true disciple, 
then, can be uniformly destitute of a sincere and lively 
interest in the spiritual welfare of his fellow-men. But 
this interest may, for a season, lamentably decline, and 
the obligations which at one time press heavily on his 
mind, may at another be almost obliterated. Hence he 
becomes remiss in all his duties to those around him ; 
he is careless of his example; nay, it would seem, almost, 
that he shaped the tenor of his life as if there were no 
souls to be influenced by him, or that he cared not for 
the ruin he was helping to bring upon them. How 
suitable, then, that he be cautioned against the sin he is 
liable to bring upon his own soul ! How important that 
he be distinctly and solemnly admonished " to walk in 
wisdom toward them that are without! " 

But, again : the importance of this precept is mani- 
fest from the great and acknowledged influence which 
Christians exert on the souls of the impenitent. This 
influence for good ends, we know, is not effective in 
itself; but it is an influence constituted of God, and 



328 CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 

by his grace made successful in the salvation of men. 
So great is its power, that believers are styled co-workers 
with God ; yea, the apostle could say to the disciples at 
Corinth, "In Christ Jesus I have begotten you through 
the gospel." 

The instrumentality of God's people, we have reason 
to believe, is ever employed in turning sinners from 
darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto 
God. So far is it the wisdom of God to observe this 
rule in reclaiming sinners to himself, that, we may safely 
say, with some rare exceptions, all conversions take 
place through some agency exerted directly or indirectly 
by believers. If, then, such consequences depend upon 
the part they have to perform, how unspeakably impor- 
tant that this duty be clearly set forth, and often incul- 
cated ; and that they be incited to all watchfulness and 
diligence that no sinner, through their neglect, fail of the 
grace of God ! 

Once more : the importance of the precept before us 
will appear when we reflect how eager are the men of 
the world to catch at the failings of professed Christians, 
and to plead them in extenuation of their own guilt. 
The virtuous deeds of the Christian they will suffer to 
pass in silence, unless they can attribute them to a 
selfish and unworthy motive ; but let some foul spot 
appear in his life, and none are more quick to discover 
it, yea, and aggravate and bruit it abroad. What 
intelligence spreads more rapidly through society, and 
penetrates its most hidden recesses, than that which 
relates to the improprieties or immoralities of professed 
Christians? The prophet Jeremiah describes this spirit 
as it worked in his day. " For I heard the defaming 
of many — fear on every side. Report, say they, and 
we will report it. All my familiars watched for my 



CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 329 

halting, saying, perad venture he will be enticed, and we 
shall prevail against him, and we shall take our revenge 
on him." If such, then, be the known propensity of the 
unrenewed heart in every age of the world, what an 
additional motive does it present to the professed Chris- 
tian to " walk in wisdom toward them that are with- 
out." If unconverted sinners are not content with the 
difficulties which already lie in the way of their return 
to God, but would multiply new impediments from 
such materials as the sins of professors supply, how 
ought professors to take heed that no such materials be 
furnished them ! If the impenitent are so eager to neu- 
tralize the feeble influence, even, which good men may 
exert for their salvation, and close up the channels 
through which the saving mercy of God ordinarily 
reaches the transgressor, then how anxious should the 
Christian be to guard and cherish whatever influence 
for good God may have given him, and strive to remove 
all stumbling-blocks out of the way by which God 
would reclaim all men to himself! Finally, if sinners 
are so intent on self-destruction that they would fain 
compel the church of God to be accessory to the suicidal 
act, then with what solicitude should the church, in all 
its members, watch and pray ; in what simplicity and 
godly sincerity should they have their conversation in 
the world ; with what fearfulness should they strive that 
if sinners perish the blood of their souls should not be 
found on their skirts ! 

IV. We proceed to consider the encouragement 
Christians have to observe the precept in the text. 

God is pleased to annex a reward to obedience in all 
cases. " Forasmuch as ye know," says the apostle, 
" that your labor shall not be in vain in the Lord." 
There is no self-denial, no sacrifice of personal ease or 

28* 



380 CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 

comfort to which the Christian submits for Christ's sake 
that shall pass unrecompensed and forgotten. If the 
reward be not fully realized here, it will be hereafter in 
the blessedness of that world whither his works shall 
follow him. But the Christian is encouraged to obey 
the exhortation in the text by a reasonable assurance 
that such a course will be productive of lasting good to 
his fellow-men. When the apostle charged the believers 
in Colosse to " walk in wisdom towards them that are 
without," he did it because he believed that this was 
the most effectual means they could employ to win 
souls to Christ. And this belief is confirmed by all that 
took place in the days of the apostles, and that has 
taken place since. The sacred historian, after describ- 
ing the lives which individual believers lived, the 
walk which they maintained toward them that are 
without, how they continued steadfastly in the apos- 
tle's doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of bread 
and in prayer, distributing of their possessions and 
goods as every man had need, adds, as the result of all 
this, that " fear came upon every soul," that " they had 
favor with all the people," and " the Lord added to the 
church daily such as should be saved." 

And again, having spoken of the churches as walking 
in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of the Holy 
Ghost, he adds immediately, " and they were multiplied." 
Such was the happy effect, both on the church and on 
the impenitent, when believers walked in wisdom toward 
them that are without. Sinners were arrested in their 
course of sin, and brought to repentance. The church 
enlarged its numbers, and was edified and strengthened ; 
for the Lord added to it daily. Sermons and exhorta- 
tions sinners will contrive to dispose of; they will stop 
their ears against them, or they will resist the impression 



CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 381 

which they are fitted to make, by bringing to remem- 
brance the inconsistencies of professed Christians. But 
what will they do when these inconsistencies are rarely 
to be found ? What will they do when the church in 
all its members has put off the works of darkness and 
put on the armor of light ? when all their walk and con- 
versation, their actions and words, are worthy of Him 
who hath called them unto his kingdom and glory ? 
What refuge now remains where they can hide ? what 
balm to soothe their disquieted hearts ? what shield for 
their consciences against the sharp two-edged sword of 
God's word, which pierces even to the dividing asunder 
of soul and spirit ? Surely, when the time shall come in 
which the church shall awake to righteousness and sin 
not, then will a new era dawn upon the world — the 
day of Pentecost will return. Sinners in Zion will no 
longer be at ease ; fearfulness will surprise them, and 
multitudes will seek unto the Lord in an accepted time. 

V. We were to consider the urgency of the duty 
enjoined in the text, and the consequences of delaying 
its performance. 

This thought is suggested by the last clause of the 
verse, " redeeming the time." As if he would say, " The 
duty to which I exhort you is a present duty ; it cannot 
be postponed without wrong to yourselves, and danger 
to the souls of them that are without. You are called 
to be saints, to walk in wisdom before the world, to win 
souls to Christ, and thus glorify him who hath called 
you. Go, then, speedily, and engage in your Master's 
business. Ye are the children of the day and not of the 
night ; sleep not, therefore, as do others, but watch and 
be sober." 

" Redeeming the time." These words indicate the 
preciousness of time. This is the measure of all the 



332 CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 

works that are done under the sun. Whatever value 
belongs to human exploits, the same attaches to time, 
for in time alone can the purposes of men be achieved. 
In time we prepare food and raiment for our bodies, we 
gather riches and honors, we treasure up knowledge and 
wisdom. And if time is so valuable to the men of the 
world in their ordinary pursuits, of what inestimable 
value is it to him to whom it affords the only opportu- 
nity to mature the fruits of righteousness in his own 
soul, and to secure blessings for the needy, perishing 
souls of his fellow-men ! 

" Redeeming the time." This expression implies that 
time has been lost, and ought, if possible, to be regained. 
And what Christian man has not occasion to deplore 
the precious time he has wasted in folly and in sin ? 
Were all the fragments that have been thrown away, the 
hours that have been spent in sloth or feeble efforts, 
that have been squandered in amusement and idle con- 
versation — were they all gathered up, into how many 
months and years even would they swell ! In this time 
how much might we have accomplished for God — 
how much for the best interest of men — how much in 
building up our own souls in knowledge and in faith ! 
But how can time once lost be recovered ? How can 
we redeem the precious years that have passed away, 
with no profit either to ourselves or to others ? In no way, 
surely, but by redoubling our diligence during the time 
that remains. And who can say how much of life 
remains for him, or how many opportunities are yet to 
come in which he can serve his generation by the will 
of God? " For what is your life? Is it not even as 
a vapor which continueth for a little time and then 
vanisheth away ? " Let all who hope to be accepted of 
God, and to enjoy the blessedness of him who has 



CHRISTIAN CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 333 

" turned many to righteousness," lay these things to 
heart; let them henceforth live as children of the light, 
and not of darkness ; yea, let them adorn the doctrines 
of God our Saviour in all things. 

Finally : let me in a few words apply the sentiment of 
our text to those " that are without." We have set forth 
in -our discourse this day the duty and responsibilities of 
Christians in relation to the impenitent, — the lives they 
ought to live, the restraints they should put upon them- 
selves, the virtues and graces they should exhibit, so 
that to the greatest possible extent they may be instru- 
mental in the salvation of your souls. Now, let me ask, 
if the salvation of your souls is of such infinite impor- 
tance in the sight of God ; if it is made the duty of all 
Christians, throughout life, to desire earnestly and labor 
diligently to secure this end, then what may God not rea- 
sonably expect of each one of you in the things that con- 
cern your own salvation ? May he not expect that you 
will be awake while he commands the whole church to 
watch for you as those that must give account ? While 
for your sakes he commands the whole body of believers 
to deny themselves all ungodliness, and to live soberly 
and righteously and godly before you, may he not insist 
that you also shake off your guilty slumbers, and work 
out your own salvation, with fear and trembling ? Must 
all the world beside be kept awake and watching, while 
you are permitted to sleepV? Must heaven and earth be 
moved for your salvation while you, the guilty and 
condemned, have nothing to do ? No, sinner ; if God 
requires great things of his people, he requires greater 
still of you. If they must watch and pray on your 
account, then must you, on your own account, weep 
and mourn for the miseries that are coming upon you, 
and repent " that your sins may be blotted out." The 



33J: CHRISTIAN" CONDUCT BEFORE THE IMPENITENT. 

church may neglect her duty, and God may visit her with 
stripes and chastisements for her sins ; professors of reli- 
gion may bring reproach on the holy cause they have 
espoused, and God may destroy them with the workers 
of iniquity ; but all this will furnish no excuse for you. 
" He that is wise is wise for himself; but he that scorn- 
eth, he alone shall bear it." Cease, then, to plead the 
sins of the church in excuse for your own impenitence ; 
cease to slumber on in sin because they who profess to 
wake and watch sleep with you ; cease to harden your- 
selves against God because some walk as though ene- 
mies of the cross of Christ, whose end is destruction. 
Take care, each one of you, for his own soul, and make 
your peace with God now, while it is an " accepted time 
and a day of salvation." 






SE11M0N XT. 



DISPROPORTION BETWEEN THE DURATION AND THE 
PURPOSE OF LIFE. 1 



"remember how shout my time is; wherefore hast thou made all 
men in vain?" — Psalm lxxxix. 49. 



This is the language of a pious and devout mind, 
but of one in which the light of faith was for the 
moment eclipsed, and whose understanding was per- 
plexed by the dispensations of Providence. Contem- 
plating the present life as the great scene of human 
exertion, the Psalmist was struck with the seeming 
disproportion between its short duration and the great 
purposes to be accomplished in it; and hence he was 
led to question the wisdom of the divine arrangement 
in regard to man. " Remember how short my time 
is ; " " it is even as a vapor which appeareth for a 
little time and then vanisheth away." " All flesh is 
grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower 
of the field ; the grass withereth, the flower thereof 
fadeth." And why should man be created for so transi- 
tory a scene as this ? — man, fashioned after God's own 
image, and endued with gifts but little inferior to those 
of angels, — a being of intelligent powers, inspired with 

1 Aug. 20, 1848. Funeral of Mrs Harriet Kingman Smith. 



336 THE DURATION AND THE PURPOSE OF LIFE. 

high purposes, impelled in the pursuit of noble ends, 
and susceptible of pure affections and of exalted enjoy- 
ments ? How disproportionate the part which he is 
fitted to act, to the stage and the scene that are allotted 
to him ! What plans worthy of himself can he hope to 
accomplish within a period so brief? To what exertions 
is he encouraged ; what hopes can he cherish ; what 
affections or joys can be nurtured in his heart, while he 
beholds the shadows of death bounding his prospects 
on every side, and feels a constant presentiment that 
" few and evil will be the days of the years of his life." 

To a mind occupied with such views of man and of 
his destiny, how natural the reflection in the last clause 
of the text, "Wherefore hast thou made all men in 
vain ? " Has not the divine constitution, as it regards 
man, proved a failure ? Has not God created a race of 
intelligent, exalted beings, aspiring, by the impulse of 
their nature, to glory and honor, capable of all attain- 
ments in knowledge and excellence and happiness, and 
yet neglected to supply an ample field for the play of 
those activities which he himself has created? Does not 
his own work convict him of folly, and show that he 
is like to the ambitious but improvident builder in the 
parable, of whom it is said, " This man began to build, 
and was not able to finish ? " " Wherefore hast thou 
made all men in vain ? " 

The sentiment insinuated in the language before us 
not only occupies an abiding place in the minds of 
many skeptical men, but serves also as an occasion of 
disquietude and trouble to truly pious souls, when, as in 
the case of the Psalmist, the withdrawment of the light 
of God's countenance is superadded to the afflictions 
they are called to endure. There is a feeling of incon- 
gruity between the period allotted to human life and the 



THE DURATION AND THE PURPOSE OF LIFE. 337 

purposes and ends which seem to have been contem- 
plated in the bestowment of this life. We reflect that 
the time appointed for man upon earth is short ; that he 
is of few days, and these, oftentimes, full of trouble. 
We think of the friends and kindred that once clustered 
about us, joyous in their own pursuits and hopes, or 
ministering to our wants and soothing our sorrows, who 
have at last disappeared from our sight. We look in 
vain for the companions of our childhood in the asso- 
ciates of our riper years ; they have passed away as a 
dream of the night. And where, we ask, is the wisdom 
of such an appointment ? Why awaken into life such 
a being as man, — a being so richly endowed, so full of 
promise, united by so many ties of interest and friend- 
ship to his fellow-men ? Or, if that life must be awak- 
ened, why so soon extinguished ? Is there not in this 
conclusive evidence of imperfection in the divine con- 
stitution concerning our world, or that God's plan 
has been broken in upon and thwarted by some agency 
which he had not the wisdom to foresee or the power to 
control ? Does it not seem that the Ruler of the universe 
had undertaken what he could not accomplish? that 
his scheme for making and governing a world has not 
only proved vain and abortive, but infinitely disastrous 
to the beings whom he has created, resulting in a world 
of disorder, disappointment, and woe ? Feelings like 
these seem to have arisen in the minds of such holy men 
as Job, and Asaph, and Ethan, as they mused on the 
providence of God in regard to the world. And is it 
strange if men less holy and less contemplative than 
they, when the hand of bereavement is upon them and 
their minds clouded with unbelief, should find it difficult 
to reconcile providential appointments with Infinite 
Wisdom ? that in moments of disappointment and sor- 

29 



338 THE DURATION AND THE PURPOSE OF LIFE. 

row they should take up the language of such men and 
say, " Wherefore hast thou made all men in vain?" 

Let us, then, improve the present occasion, in seeking 
a remedy for these perplexities of the mind, the true 
ground on which the ways of God with men may be 
vindicated. The occasion of the perplexity and trouble 
to which we have adverted as often afflicting the minds 
of men, is, we repeat, the disproportion between the 
duration of human life and the purposes for which that 
life is seemingly given. The fact that man's life was so 
short led the Psalmist to conclude that he was created 
in vain. 

But here let us consider, — 

I. That to extend the period of human life to any 
supposable limits, would not relieve the mind of the 
difficulty complained of. In one point of view, it may 
be said, that duration, however long, is relatively short. 
Indeed, compared to eternity, all periods of time are 
conceived as alike ; on the ground, that to the infinite 
all the relations of the finite fail, and, consequently, are 
all the same. If the present shortness of human life is 
evidence that God has made all men in vain, the same 
inference would force itself upon us though that life were 
protracted to any supposable extent. The years of our 
life, as it now is, might be multiplied by the moments 
of which they consist, and their product by any combi- 
nation of figures which our minds could frame, and yet 
the long duration would have an end. And when the 
end came, the part in retrospect, as now, would seem 
like a dream of the night, a tale that is told, a vapor 
that vanisheth away. And when we thought that now 
man's career was to close — that his exalted attainments, 
the growth of untold ages of thought and experience, 
were to be extinguished, and his name and renown to 



THE DURxVTIOtf AND THE PURPOSE OF LIFE. 339 

perish — might we not, with more emphasis than now, 
exclaim, " Wherefore hast thou made all men in vain?" 
If the wisdom of providential arrangements in regard 
to man is to be impeached on the ground that the period 
of his life is so short, we must consider that the difficulty 
is not relieved by prolonging this life to any extent with- 
in the limits of the finite. A solemn thought it is, 
and one that should make the creature silent before his 
Maker, that the problems which involve the Infinite can 
be solved only by infinitude ; that man himself is the 
deepest of all mysteries, except as we conceive of him 
as born for eternity. 

II. Let us consider, that as it is but a small part of 
man and of his destiny that falls under our observation 
here, so it is but a limited portion of God's scheme in 
regard to him that can now be discovered. It is natural 
for us, and for many purposes convenient, to think of 
the future as separate from the present — of eternity as 
disjoined by some natural or artificial barrier from time. 
But this is an illusion of our minds ; it has no existence 
except in our mode of contemplation. To the mind of 
the Deity it is one undivided whole ; as truly so as our 
own life, or any portion of it, is a unit to our minds. 
And we might as well break up the life of any man into 
periods, and form our judgment of the divine attributes 
from what the man might suffer or enjoy during that 
period, as to separate the life that he now lives from 
that which awaits him, and subject the wisdom and 
justice of God to the test which this life may furnish. . 
God's scheme in regard to the sons of men is commen- 
surate with their being. If that being terminates not 
here; if it flows on in an endless stream, uninterrupted 
by death and the dissolution of all that is seen and tem- 
poral ; if it lives on when time itself shall be no longer, 



340 THE DURATION AND THE PURPOSE OF LIFE. 

and rises, it may be, to glory and honor which the mortal 
eye hath not seen, nor the ear heard, nor the heart con- 
ceived, — then let us patiently wait till we see the divine 
constitution developed in all its fulness and glory before 
we pronounce upon it, and say, " Wherefore hast thou 
made all men in vain?" There are seasons in almost 
every man's life of deep perplexity and unmitigated an- 
guish ; and shall we judge of the wisdom and goodness 
of God from this scene of suffering, without taking into 
consideration those compensating periods of prosperity 
and joy which follow? Has not God, in the arrangements 
of his providence, set the good over against the evil, and 
ordained that "though weeping may endure for the 
night, yet joy cometh in the morning ?" Equally pre- 
posterous is it to judge of God from what now appears, 
while we are ignorant of what lies hid in the vast future, 
to compensate for the present ills we now endure ; and 
especially to do so, regardless of his declaration, that 
" All things work together for good to them that love 
God and are the called according to his promise." 

III. Let us consider that there are events in this world 
which most affect the well-being of man that are not 
strictly subject to the measurement of time ; in other 
words, it is not the time they consume in transpiring 
which determines at all their quality, or adds to their 
reality and importance. Principles are developed, 
events spring into notice, relations are awakened and 
destinies announced, in regard to which no question 
of time, whether it be longer or shorter, is conceived to 
be involved. No man thinks of passing judgment on 
such matters, as to whether they are good or bad, wise 
or foolish, salutary or hurtful, according as they are the 
fruit of a longer or shorter period of time. In the most 
important aspect in which we can contemplate them, 



THE DURATION AND THE PURPOSE OF LIFE. 341 

they stand above the influence of time, though within 
its limits ; they derive none of their qualities from time, 
and occupy in fact but the shortest period into which it 
is divided. " God said, let there be light, and there 
was light." Our first parents tasted of the forbidden 
fruit, and themselves and their race through all future 
time were ruined. The Son of God bowed his head on 
the cross and gave up the ghost, and from that moment 
the salvation of the world became possible. The thief 
on the cross prayed and said, " Remember me when 
thou comest into thy kingdom ; " and Jesus answered, 
" To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise." Here are 
events that took place in time ; but time itself gave 
them no character or importance. Their influence on 
the well-being of men through eternity is the same, 
whether they were the events of an instant of time or 
the labor of a thousand years. That they were events 
of an almost indivisible period of time furnishes no indi- 
cation that they took place in vain. And we cannot 
readily perceive why God's scheme concerning this 
world might not have been equally wise and perfect 
had the time for its development been far less protracted 
than it now seems to be. Had human life been limited 
to a much shorter period than it actually is, this would 
have furnished no proof that God had " made all men in 
vain." How much time is required to mature the noblest 
or the basest purposes of the mind ; — purposes on which 
its glory and happiness, or its shame and woe, depend 
through an endless duration ! By an act of the soul so 
rapid, perhaps, as to escape the measure or the notice of 
time, its interests may be eternally forfeited or eternally 
secured ; and shall we impute foolishness to the Most 
High because that act did not require the lapse of a 
thousand years for its accomplishment? Shall we in a 

29* 



842 THE DURATION AND THE PURPOSE OP LIFE. 

like spirit of temerity say that " all men are made in 
vain," because we remember how short is the period 
allotted to those purposes which determine our future 
well-being ? 

Let us consider, — 

IV. That in the divine constitution in regard to this 
world, there is an element which renders it needful that 
the life of man be short upon the earth. It is suitable 
and desirable, as all must concede, that God should 
govern the world in righteousness. A right sceptre, 
surely, should be wielded over a kingdom that is con- 
fined to the bounds neither of space nor time. If sin, 
with all its plagues and woes, has invaded the world, it 
is meet that the throne of the Highest should be the 
habitation of justice and judgment. It is proper and 
desirable that God should protect and preserve what he 
has created ; that he should at least so far restrain the 
wickedness of men that the human race should not 
prematurely perish, and that by suicidal hands. To 
prevent such a disaster, God has found it necessary 
from time to time to abridge the period of human life, 
and finally to reduce it to its present narrow span. It 
is found that the name and the race of man can be 
perpetuated on the earth only by shortening the term of 
succession. So active are man's propensities to evil, 
so rapidly does he accumulate treasures of wrath both 
for himself and his fellow-men, that his long continuance 
on the earth is incompatible with the safety and well- 
being of the whole. Each generation becomes more 
powerful for evil, and perhaps more inclined to it, than 
its predecessors ; and who can foresee the condition of 
the world at the end of a thousand years, or even of a 
hundred, should its present inhabitants continue to 
occupy it ? What barrier could restrain the weight of 



THE DURATION AXD THE PURPOSE OF LIFE. 343 

organized wealth and power, which, during so long a 
period, would become mighty on the earth, or control 
the lust of dominion and rapine and oppression that 
would actuate them ? Let the arrangements of Divine 
Providence be such that sinning might have somewhat 
of an abiding place on earth, and " the whole creation 
would groan and travail in pain together," and cry out 
for deliverance. Hence the process of peopling and 
unpeopling the earth must be hastened. Generations 
must follow each other in quick succession ; as saith the 
apostle, " For he will finish the work, and cut it short 
in righteousness ; because a short work will the Lord 
make upon the earth." Consider, then, O man, when 
thou lamentest how short thy life is, that it is thyself 
and the sinners of thy race that have so abridged it. A 
long tenure to the goodly earth did man enjoy, till he 
abused it and made it the occasion of unrestrained folly 
and wickedness ; and it is only as a measure of safety 
that God now resolves to make a short work with us on 
the earth. And when you accuse the Most High of 
having made all men in vain, remember that it is 
because God is just and you a sinner that your days on 
the earth are become few and evil. 

V. Let it reconcile us to the shortness of our present 
life to consider that there is that over which even death 
has no power. The strength and life of the body 
may give way before the great destroyer, but the soul 
hath a life that shall never be extinguished. That soul, 
with its power of thought, with its treasures of truth 
and experience and beauty gathered along its path in 
life, is destined in the scheme of God to live forever ; 
yea, if not regardless of its high calling, to enter on an 
inheritance, incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not 
away, reserved in heaven for us. 



344 THE DURATION AND THE PURPOSE OF LIFE. 

And with such hopes to cherish and to lean upon in 
regard to our departed friends, can we not be resigned 
to the will of Him who hath caused us for a season to 
part ? If their death seems to us to have been prema- 
ture, let us reflect that so too has been their release from 
the sufferings, the fears, and the sorrows of the life that 
now is. Has their departure left a void in the circle of 
our friends ; has it broken the staff which supported us, 
silenced the voice that soothed us, and deprived us of 
the companions of our joys and sorrows — let us think 
of what it may have added to the circle of other friends, 
and what gifts of holiness and bliss the departed have 
received, now that they are translated to purer and hap- 
pier seats. When we remember what sufferings and 
sorrows they endured on the earth, let us think of them 
as being " evermore with the Lord," inhabiting " a city 
which hath foundations," where " the wicked cease from 
troubling, and where the weary are at rest." Do we 
mourn that they were so early removed — let us consider 
that not unlikely God has taken them from the evil that 
is to come. Let us remember what they have been to 
us, what ties of friendship and endearment have been 
mutually cherished between us, and consider that these 
are ties which are never to be sundered — ties which are 
nurtured by the remembrance of the past and the antici- 
pations of the future, and which, as subsisting between 
the redeemed of the Lord, will be confirmed and per- 
fected " in that day when He shall come to be glorified 
in his saints, and to be admired in all them that 
believe." 

Reflections like these are suited, I must think, to 
establish our wavering faith in the wisdom and propriety 
of God's dealings with the children of men ; and may 
they serve to soothe the sorrows and comfort the hearts 



THE DURATION AND THE PURPOSE OF LIFE. 345 

of those of us who come here this day stricken and 
afflicted of God. The event, dear relatives and friends, 
which we had hoped God in his mercy would avert, he 
has seen fit, in his holy and all-wise providence, to bring 
upon us ; and having here in his courts duly recognized 
his hand in this affliction, and sought consolation from 
his word and through the prayers of his people, we go 
to lay the remains of her whom we esteemed and loved 
in the rest of the grave. It is painful to think of the 
wide chasm which this event has occasioned in the 
circle of her relatives, and especially of the desolation 
which it has made in that house from which she is now 
withdrawn, no more to return. It is sad to consider how 
early in life she has been removed, what schemes of 
domestic enjoyment have been broken up, what fond 
hopes blighted. Sad is the remembrance of those " weari- 
some days and nights that were appointed her." But we 
sorrow not as those that have no hope. We think with 
pleasure on the patient and unrepining spirit with which 
she received the chastisements of the Lord. We recall 
the solemn and emphatic manner in which she deplored 
her past unprofitable life, the earnestness with which 
she sought the light of God's countenance, and that the 
hope in Christ which she cherished might not fail her, 
but be strengthened and confirmed. We think of the 
undissembled seriousness and composure with which she 
yielded herself to the disposal of God, and of the good 
remembrance which her mind cherished, in almost its 
last conscious moments, of those institutions through 
which Christian benevolence is diffusing the blessings of 
life and salvation among the needy and neglected of our 
race. But we trust that she has now found what she 
sought, a rest and a portion for her soul in God. With 
these remembrances, then, let us comfort one another in 



346 THE DURATION AND THE PURPOSE OF LIFE. 

this season of affliction, and together let us adore and 
magnify the mercy and grace of God. And finally, let 
us heed the solemn and impressive admonition which 
we receive through this event, and strive each one of us 
to be prepared to join that happy and fast widening 
circle of kindred and friends who are already present 
with the Lord. Amen. 



SERMON XVI. 



LIFE, AS RELATED TO THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN.i 



"while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things 
which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, 

BUT THE THINGS WHICH ARE NOT SEEN ARE ETERNAL." — 2 Cor. iv. 18. 



Allusion is had in this connection to the difficulties 
and trials incident to " the life that now is," and, at the 
same time, the source of those healing, strength-renew- 
ing virtues is indicated, by which the soul is sustained 
in its conflicts, and nurtured for the more perfect endless 
" life that is to come." 

Especial reference is doubtless had in the context to 
the sufferings and wrongs inflicted on the disciples of 
Jesus in that age when Christianity first entered into 
conflict with " the powers of darkness." Summoned to 
the defence and propagation of the gospel, against the 
licentiousness of Paganism on the one hand, and the 
exclusive spirit of Judaism on the other, the champion 
of the Cross became at once the central point on which 
the enemies of the faith, from the whole circumference 
of human errors and delusions, exerted their fierce and 
relentless hate. Hence the apostle speaks in his own 
person of being " troubled on every side ; perplexed, per- 

1 Baccalaureate, Burlington, 1855. The last public discourse of President 
Smith. 



348 LIFE, AS RELATED TO THE 

secuted ; always bearing about in the body the dying of 
the Lord Jesus." 

The sufferings arising even from this source, though 
they acted with a consuming force upon the victim, 
causing " the outward man to perish," are nevertheless 
characterized as " light afflictions," and of but momen- 
tary duration. With all their intense and crushing 
weight they appeared trivial to the sufferer in the light 
of that surpassing glory which was " revealed from faith 
to faith." And though mortal life was the measure of 
their endurance, yet, as contrasted with the abiding and 
immutable of the unseen world, they vanished like mo- 
ments from the face of time. 

The important transitions incident to human life 
when new and untried fields of enterprise are to be 
entered and unwonted cares and responsibilities as- 
sumed, especially when the youth is about to ex- 
change the quiet retreats of study and pupilage for the 
strife and buffets of a life of storm and unrest, become, 
to a mind prudent to foresee evil, fit occasions to inquire 
for the great secret, if one there be by which life's course 
may be safely guided, its temptations resisted, its sorrows 
and sense of wrongs assuaged ; and not only this, but 
the whole of life's experience, sad and dark as it may be, 
made to contribute to "a far more exceeding and eternal 
weight of glory." 

Such an occasion is now before us, and the text offers 
a theme not inappropriate to it, inasmuch as it treats of 
human life under its most natural aspect of difficulty 
and suffering ; inasmuch as it exposes the fallacious 
nature of all things sensuous and earthly to soothe the 
anguish of an afflicted spirit ; inasmuch as it affirms the 
reality of an ever-present, spiritual world open to the 
intuitions of faith, as the material is to the perceptions 



SEEN AND THE UNSEEN 349 

of sense ; and, finally, asserts the sufficing nature of the 
unseen for all the exigencies of the soul, causing " all 
things to work together for good to them that love 
God." 

1. Human life contemplated as a state of difficulty 
and suffering. But let us not cherish a spirit of ingrat- 
itude and discontent in allowing ourselves to speak 
disparagingly of the state to which Providence has 
temporarily assigned us. Indeed, what ingenuous mind 
can contemplate the present abode of man, the myriad 
sources of enjoyment with which it is supplied, the 
surpassing beauty and glory of its adornment, the 
innumerable contrivances to mitigate its inconveni- 
ences, or render them ultimately compensative, and 
the immeasurable amount of happiness with the slight- 
est possible degree of pain which the outer world is 
fitted to administer to a race of sinless beings, without 
unutterable emotions of adoration and praise ? 

But in our estimate of the divine goodness, as shown 
in the structure and arrangements of our present abode, 
it is not to be concealed or forgotten that sin, under its 
darkest and most hateful type, has become an element 
of the human soul. The earth, through the forbearance 
of God, is tenanted by a fallen race, grovelling and 
selfish, cherishing a spirit of discontent and unthank- 
fulness, living without God in the world, and in its most 
cultivated and refined ages characterized in holy writ as 
"hateful and hating one another." Nevertheless, the 
curse of offended justice and of outraged mercy has not 
stricken to the root of all that is beautiful and lovely on 
the earth and spread over the face of paradise the black- 
ness of hell. We still trace the footsteps of Infinite 
Love among the abodes of the sinful and self-abandoned. 
The light and the shower, the gentle dew and the 

30 



850 LIFE, AS RELATED TO THE 

health-restoring breeze yet visit the earth ; and on every 
hand and at every hour we hear a Father's voice inviting, 
and behold a Father's hand stretched out to welcome 
the children to him "from whom they have revolted." 

But though God has not left himself without a witness 
to his forbearance and kindness towards sinners of our 
race, at the same time who is not a witness to himself, 
and what age has not left its testimony behind it, that 
human life is a scene of difficulty and suffering ? Plans 
are conceived to be thwarted, hopes are cherished to be 
blighted, riches are coveted which never become ours, 
or they vanish like the bird of passage, or descend the 
inheritance of a curse to ungrateful heirs. So, too, a 
name and reputation are laboriously built up to be un- 
appreciated and soon forgotten ; affections are wasted on 
unworthy objects ; sickness poisons the fountains of life 
or strikes down the loved ones at our side. To men of 
all generations there are times and seasons when the 
confession of the old patriarch meets an universal re- 
sponse in the human bosom, " Few and evil have been 
the days of the years of my life." 

Diversified as is the life-experience of men, there is, 
notwithstanding, a general resemblance in it all, as in 
the features of the human countenance, establishing in 
the one case the unity of the dispensation to which all 
are subject, as in the other the identity of the race. The 
diversity in the divine dispensation towards individuals 
of similar desert has ever proved a dark problem to 
thinking men, and the only satisfactory solution it seems 
to admit of is to suppose a future state of rewards and 
punishments, in which the inequalities that exist here 
may be corrected and even compensated. 

The distribution of good and evil, of happiness and 
misery, may be found, perhaps, on examination, to be 



SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 351 

less in reality than in appearance. Honor may cause its 
favorite to repose on a bed of thorns ; riches not seldom 
enslave the sons of affluence, and devour, as doth a 
canker, all the pure and elevated sentiments of a once 
noble soul ; while contentment, peace, and " all holy 
charities " adorn and gladden the abodes of obscurity, 
penury, and toil. 

But though divine allotments are diversified and even 
disproportionate to relative desert, in our present state, 
nevertheless it would be insane for mortals to look for 
exemption from disappointment and sorrow " in this the 
house of their pilgrimage." That " man is born to 
trouble," is the reflection of the most profound observer 
of human affairs. Unclouded may be the prospects that 
open on the youth of thy life, and strong the impulses 
that beat at thy heart, and bright the guiding-star that 
allures thee ; but remember, O young man, " the days of 
darkness for thee are many." Light and gallant is the 
bark that leaves the port, and auspicious the breeze that 
fills the canvas, and brave the heart of the mariner ; but 
reflect, thou voyager of the ocean of life, that the deep 
thou darest is vexed by storms, and its shores made 
infamous by wrecks, and how few and fortunate are 
those who, having outrode all tempests, are at last seen, 
wearied and worn, toiling into the haven of their des- 
tination. Beautiful, indeed, but no less just, are the 
words of the old prophet to his young companion in 
peril and persecution : " Seekest thou great things for 
thyself? seek them not; for behold I will bring evil 
upon all flesh, saith the Lord." 

2. The insufficiency of things earthly and sensuous 
to meet the wants and soothe the troubles of an afflicted 
spirit. In the general description of " things which are 
seen," the apostle no doubt embraces not only material 



352 LIFE, AS RELATED TO THE 

objects, but the manifold incidents and relations which 
serve to invest the outer world with an air of life and 
interest. Man, whatever else may be said of his capa- 
bilities, is by nature a creature of sense. The first 
objects that secure his notice are those of which the 
senses of the body take cognizance. And in this provi- 
sion of Providence there is a manifest wisdom and even 
necessity which strikes the mind of every one who con- 
siders the order in which the human faculties are devel- 
oped and brought into use. These external objects, acting 
upon the organs of sense, supply the first occasion of the 
mind's self-consciousness, the knowledge of its own 
being, and of the various susceptibilities and powers 
with which it is endowed. The pains and pleasures we 
first experience arise from our connection with the world 
without. The sufferings we most dread, the gratifica- 
tions we most earnestly crave, are derived from this 
source. And what, as it regards the unreflecting period 
of infancy and childhood, is a law of nature to us, 
becomes, by force of habit and a cherished disposition, a 
controlling power over us in the after-periods of life. 
At a time when the instincts of nature should have 
yielded to the teachings of reason and the authority of 
God, we still find man obedient to his senses, and in 
eager pursuit of what can administer only to the real 
or factitious wants of his nature. He has respect to 
" things which are seen." 

But when the apostle affirms the existence of a power 
to overcome the difficulties and soothe the troubles of 
our present state, and build the soul up unto eternal 
life, he cautions us not to seek for it in the objects of 
time and sense. Our present afflictions, he says, seem 
light and momentary, so long as we look not at the 
things which are seen ; for the things which are seen are 



SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 353 

temporal. Perishable objects may administer to the 
fleeting and the transitory, but the cravings of the im- 
mortal can be satisfied only by that which liveth and 
abideth forever. We are accustomed, indeed, by per- 
verse habits of thought, to annex the idea of substan- 
tive being and permanence only to things of outward 
form, and which occupy space, and hence to regard all 
objects as unreal and delusive, save what act on the 
outward senses. The earth we tread upon, the upheaved 
rocks which form the mountain barrier between hostile 
nations, the massive bodies of light which hold their 
place in the firmament and blaze on unchanged through 
the ages, we reckon among the things that are fixed and 
abiding. In like manner we persuade ourselves that the 
gratification which flows from sensuous objects is of a 
nature that is unfailing. We can hardly conceive that 
the events of life should cease to interest, or that riches 
and fame, that gayety and pleasure, should lose their 
power to charm. But this rule of estimating things the 
Scriptures entirely reverse. What we regard as substan- 
tial and abiding, the word of God treats as shadowy and 
transitory. It likens all things seen to the " vapor which 
appeareth for a little while and then vanisheth away." 
It speaks of the material world, with all its garniture of 
beauty and grandeur, as a glory that withereth like the 
flower of the field. It announces the coming of the 
day when these heavens shall be rolled together as a 
scroll, and no place found for the earth and the sea. 

And who that considers the structure of the external 
world, and how much its phenomena and general ap- 
pearance depends on the mechanism of the eye that 
beholds it, can marvel at such representations as these. 
Whether we contemplate matter under the atomic or 
dynamic theory, it is manifest that the disturbance of a 

30* 



854 LIFE, A3 RELATED TO THE 

few simple, imponderable forces would reduce to a 
chaotic state all that now appears so massive and endur- 
ing. In like manner, if, by a change in its mechanism, 
the range of the human eye were to be extended to that 
of the telescope, or diminished to that of the microscope, 
how instantly should we cease to recognize the world 
with which we are now so familiar! Objects which are 
now seen would become invisible, and those which are 
now to us as though they had no being would occupy 
the whole field of vision. All existing proportions and 
combinations, out of which arise our ideas of order and 
beauty, would disappear, and all present objects of taste 
give place to such as are now without form or comeli- 
ness. 

Such is the world without, as philosophy contemplates 
it, utterly dependent on invisible forces, or on the acci- 
dent of human organization — the passing shadow of 
the real and abiding, of the unseen and eternal. How 
preposterous, then, to seek in the seen and temporal 
what can administer to the spirit of man, whose essence 
is immortal, whose capacity is limited only by the in- 
finite, and whose yearnings and whose agonies are no 
less profound and awful than its essence is mysterious ! 

Nature, with the myriad objects it embraces, has 
indeed a worthy purpose and a predetermined end ; and 
these, for the most part, find their fulfilment for man in 
the wants they supply, in the growth and development 
to which nature administers. She has bread for the 
hungry, and water for him that is athirst; goodly sight 
she proffers to the practised eye, and sweet melodies to 
the ear attuned to song, and choice materials to employ 
the skill of the cunning artisan. But nature is the 
correlative of nature^ not of the spirit. Nothing in her 
humble storehouse sufficeth for what is rational and 



SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 355 

divine in the human soul, — no food to nourish it, no 
balm to heal its wounds, no light to guide it when 
awakened to the earnest pursuit of all truth and excel- 
lence, no words of deep significance to inspire its hopes 
and teach it assurance as it looks into the dark and 
troubled future of the eternal world. Surely it is not 
within the sphere of things seen to perform this high 
ministry to the immortal soul ; " for the things which are 
seen* are temporal." 

3. The text affirms the reality of an ever-present, 
unseen world, subject to the intuitions of faith, as the 
material is open to the perceptions of sense. The " things 
not seen," of which the apostle here speaks, are not the 
abstractions and generalizations which occupy the sphere 
of human science, but vital essences, living energies, 
" things of the spirit," existing, not by the will of man, 
but in virtue of their own intrinsic excellence and the 
ordinance of God. Moreover, they are not things into 
a belief of whose existence man reasons himself, as by 
a process of analysis or deduction he reaches the con- 
clusions of science. Like the objects in nature, they 
are things also to be looked at, contemplated with sure 
and open vision, though with mortal sense " we touch 
not, taste not, handle not." It is a spiritual world, as 
contrasted with the sensuous ; a scientific or ideal world, 
embracing not only a superior but a peculiar order of 
life and excellence, and forming a true and adequate 
correlative to the spirit in man, as the external world 
answers to whatever lies within the sphere of the 
animal. 

Now, such a world, filled with objects of " spirit and 
life," is essential to the very idea of spirit in man — that 
capacity which exalts him above the beasts that perish, 
a power to apprehend what the eye hath not seen nor 



356 LIFE, AS RELATED TO THE 

the ear heard, — a world of elevating, solemn, glorious 
truths which the soul hungers and is athirst for, and in 
the presence of which the earthly and the sensuous van- 
ish like day-dreams, leaving the soul to the free and joy- 
ous communion of what is kindred to its own true and 
noble self. 

To inculcate with authority on a benighted race the 
reality of such a world, and to give its living energies 
access to obdurate minds, was an important purpose to 
be fulfilled by the gospel. Hence our Saviour opened 
his mission upon earth by calling the attention of men 
to "the kingdom of God," and especially to the consid- 
eration that it was near them, " within you," or in the 
midst of you. He would divert their anxieties from the 
face of the sky, the omens of good and evil in the world 
of sense, and teach them to contemplate " the signs of 
the times" — symbols of far deeper significance, and 
opening up to the soul a treasure of imperishable 
wealth. " For the kingdom of God is not meat and 
drink," an aliment suited to whatever we have in com- 
mon with those whose spirit goeth downwards, " but 
righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." 
What stirring words are these for beings grovelling 
among things that are seen, and yet conscious that they 
have within them the germ of a higher life, and were 
born for nobler pursuits ! What gladsome words to a 
weary soul that has long wandered in search of rest and 
found none ! What life-giving sounds to one who has felt 
the anguish of a sin-stricken soul, and whose only hope 
is in the mercy of God ! 

The kingdom of God, it is conceded, is represented 
in Scripture by words and phrases which denote futurity, 
as, for example, " the world to come, of which we speak," 
" the powers of the world to come ;" but this language 



SEEN AND THE UK SEEN. 357 

is to us significant only of what is expressed in the text, 
" The things which are not seen are eternal." In assert- 
ing the future of the spiritual, there is no denial of a 
present. Doubtless a more perfect and impressive mani- 
festation of the unseen is yet to be looked for as we, 
under the Christian economy, enjoy a more glorious rev- 
elation of the same than was vouchsafed to patriarchs 
and prophets of earlier dispensations. The day indeed 
cometh when "w T e shall see as we are seen, and know as 
we are known." 

Moreover, the terms which express futurity to things 
not seen are manifestly intended to convey the idea of 
permanence and immutability, as contrasted with the 
changeable and transitory, which belong to tilings seen. 
While all things visible shall wax old like a garment, 
and vanish away, the unseen objects of faith — "the 
world to come, of which we speak" — will never cease 
to be what they now are. God and his glorious attri- 
butes of justice, truth, and love — the principles of a 
moral economy, inclusive of a righteous law and a per- 
sonal, accountable will; a Divine Providence, holiness, 
and sin, as the unavoidable conditions of rewards and 
punishments — are ideas which impress themselves on 
the human mind as intrinsically necessary and eternal. 
They are limited to no time or locality. They have 
neither beginning of days nor end of years. 

Here then is a world, all-surrounding and ever-present, 
of which the visible is but a faint and shadowy repre- 
sentation, and in which man is fitted to live and move 
and find his only true being. To him who walks by 
sight and not by faith, who " loveth not the truth, but 
hath pleasure in unrighteousness," mists and darkness 
may veil the glorious realities of the unseen and eternal. 
Nay, it is said of a man merged in carnality, that he 



358 LIFE, AS RELATED TO THE 

" receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they 
are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, 
because they are spiritually discerned." The things of 
the Spirit are open to the eye of the spirit — the flesh 
seeth them not ; and this inward sense needeth exercise 
to discern both good and evil. Faith, like the power to 
perceive external objects, is the organ of communion 
between the soul and the things of God, and, like the 
latter, is a sure and reliable source of knowledge. " We 
believe," says the apostle, " and therefore affirm." Knowl- 
edge of substantive being must in all cases be resolved 
into immediate intuition — a belief. We perceive for 
ourselves, or credit the testimony of another ; and both 
perception and credence in human testimony are acts of 
intuition. No man reasons himself into a belief in the 
existence of the outer world, as no man can reason him- 
self out of such a belief. He must perceive it, as the 
condition of having even a notion of it; and the convic- 
tion which enters into the perception is that which no 
man can repudiate, and of which no wise man affects to 
give account. We look out on the objects in nature, — 
on the fields in their beauty, the undulating crest of the 
mountain range, the shower that makes glad the earth, 
the star that alternates its morning song and evening 
hymn of praise, — and as we behold, we believe, and 
doubt not. The truth, so far as it can be to us, is 
evidenced in the belief itself. It lies in our minds as a 
conviction, sharply and deeply cut, but of which no 
ulterior account can be given. So, too, faith is an intui- 
tion, a beholding of things not seen ; and the conviction 
that what we behold is both real and abiding enters into 
the very essence of the intuition, and is traceable no fur- 
ther. Faith thus becomes, in this as in all other cases, the 
beginning of all true knowledge, as it is the end in 



SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 350 

which all knowledge culminates and is lost. Hence it 
is denned by the apostle to be " The substance of things 
hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen." 

4. The text affirms the sufficing nature of the unseen 
for all the exigencies of the soul. The true secret by 
which the world, regarded as a scene of difficulty and 
trial, of temptation and sorrow, is to be overcome, lies 
in the habitual contemplation, the steady beholding of 
things eternal. This habit of beholding things not seen 
renders the afflictions of this life light and momentary, 
and even makes them conducive to an eternal weight of 
glory. Hence the apostle elsewhere denominates them 
vital energies, " powers of the world to come." And 
again he says, " The kingdom of God is not in word, but 
in power." 

To a soul rightly attuned there is a harmony in divine 
things which, like the concord of sweet sounds falling 
upon the ear, allays the irritation which the strifes of 
this world engender, and takes from sorrow the sting 
which worketh death. In the things of God — his own 
ineffable perfections, the wisdom and beneficence of his 
providence, the stability and grandeur of his truth, the 
beauty of holiness, the fitness of his law to the spirit in 
man, the high and glorious communings of spirit w T ith 
spirit, and of all pure spirits with the God and Father 
of all — there is a power of attraction which surpasses 
the beauty of all earthly forms, and the grandeur of all 
earthly symphonies. And thus do " we all, beholding, 
as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, become changed 
into the same image, from glory to glory, as by the 
Spirit of the Lord." 

Moreover, from the antagonistic character of the pow- 
ers with which nature and spirit are severally endowed, 
and the superior excellence of the latter to the former, 



Q 



60 LIFE, AS RELATED TO THE 



a state of tranquillity and repose attends the contempla- 
tion of great and worthy objects. This is true, even, of 
whatever is lofty and grand in nature, when contem- 
plated by "the mind of the Spirit." The unseen and 
eternal are symbolized in the seen and temporal, and 
the finite becomes blended with the infinite. When the 
Spirit asserts his prerogative, and enters " within the 
veil," sentiment takes the place of passion, and the un- 
quiet bosom, like the deep unvexed by storms, subsides 
into a state of rest and repose. Such is the influence 
which the simply grand and lofty has over the human 
mind. And how will the effect be enhanced when 
nature puts on the spiritual, and the temporal assumes 
the awful aspect of the eternal! How enviable is the 
experience of him who is conversant with the moral 
power of prayer, with "the peace passing all under- 
standing," which comes over the soul wearied with the 
strifes of earth, when conscious of the presence and 
glory of things unseen, and leaning with confidence on 
the bosom of Him who inhabiteth eternity! This is 
the Spirit doing homage to whatever is great and excel- 
lent in spirit, the finite reposing on the infinite, the 
creature made joyful in its dependence on the Creator. 

Once more: the "world to come, of which we speak," 
is rendered attractive, not only by all that is great and 
pure and lovely in truth and moral sentiment, but by 
those vital affinities which bind together " the whole 
family on earth and in heaven." " We are come," writes 
the same apostle to those who were under " trial of 
their faith," — "we are come to the heavenly Jerusalem, 
to an innumerable company of angels, to the general 
assembly and church of the First-born, to God the Judge 
of all, to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to 
Jesus the mediator of a new covenant." It is a broad 



SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 361 

domain of life, intelligence, personality, sympathy, that 
lies open to him who walks by faith- — a mighty throng 
of witnesses encompassing his path, to cheer him in his 
conflicts, and beckon him on to the prize of his high 
calling. The worthies of all past ages — the holy patri- 
archs and prophets, the noble company of martyrs, the 
benefactors of our own time and country, with the savor 
of whose names the earth is still redolent — are there 
rejoicing in their abiding rest and inheritance. 

Such are the powers of the unseen and eternal to 
develop the hidden life of the soul, to make it strong in 
the conflicts of earth, and endue it, amidst all trials and 
sufferings, with the peace of God which passeth knowl- 
edge. 

And what more striking example of the sufficiency of 
the unseen and eternal for such ends than is supplied in 
the life-experience of Paul the apostle ? A youth of 
rare endowments, and nurtured under the best masters 
in the learning of the age, we behold him emerging from 
the restraints of pupilage to espouse the waning for- 
tunes of the national faith. With a capacity for bold 
and magnificent schemes, an energy to baffle all difficul- 
ties which lay in his path, an eloquence which alike 
swayed the rude minds of the populace and made 
princes tremble in their seats of power, he planted him- 
self athwart the new movement, which threatened the 
extinction of all that was venerable in the religion of 
his fathers, infused vigor into the faltering councils of 
the nation, and became at once acknowledged as the 
master-spirit in those turbulent times. Never til] now 
had the Christian faith encountered such an aggressive 
force as was wielded by the single arm of this young 
man, and for a time she stood appalled as she beheld 
her ranks recoiling and breaking up before the fury of 

31 



362 LIFE, AS RELATED TO THE 

his assaults. With such gifts and aspirations, earth 
promised to withhold no eminence of fame or power 
from his grasp. 

But while pursuing the opponents of his country's 
faith with a zeal that carried terror even into foreign 
lands, suddenly a vision passed over his mind, and he 
sunk to the earth, overpowered and subdued, exclaiming, 
" Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ? " From this 
moment the whole current of his life was reversed. 
New objects of surpassing interest burst upon his mind, 
and, girded with the same indomitable purpose as before, 
he entered on the pursuit of them, but with a spirit 
attempered to the docility and gentleness of Him who 
had led him out of darkness into light. Things seen 
and temporal had faded from his mind, like dreams and 
shadows, before the deep and solemn convictions which 
the unseen and eternal had awakened. The one great 
purpose now engrossed his thoughts by day and by 
night — "to serve his generation by the will of God," 
and to be " accounted worthy of Him who had called 
him unto His kingdom and glory." With a zeal that 
burned but did not consume, he cheerfully pursued the 
path of his mission, through privations and weariness and 
peril, regardless of scorn, imprisonment, and stripes, 
anxious only to " finish his course with joy, and the 
ministry which he had received to preach the gospel of 
the grace of God." Many and long years of service 
and suffering had at length made inroads upon the out- 
ward man ; nevertheless, girded with might in the inner 
man, he " bates not one jot of heart or hope," but holds 
on his way, a spirit of fire, the light and joy of the 
myriads whom he had won to the hope of the gospel. 
At last, when the time of his departure was at hand, he 
put on record that noble confession which men on earth 



SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 363 

and in heaven " will not let die." " I am now ready to 
be offered. I have fought a good fight, I have finished 
my course and kept the faith ; henceforth there is laid up 
for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the 
righteous Judge, will give me in that day." Well may 
the man of such experience speak of the " powers of the 
world to come," and commend their virtue to the gen- 
erations of a miserable race, as alone adequate to the 
exigencies of the soul. 

It only remains, in fulfilment of my purpose on this 
occasion, to address a few words to the class that is 
about to graduate. 

The hour of separation, my young friends and pupils, 
is now at hand — the hour that terminates the daily 
interchange of courtesy and fraternal kindness among 
yourselves, and withdraws from our walks and places of 
concourse the forms we have long been accustomed to 
greet. You go forth, some of you no doubt, with a 
feeling kindred to that of the pilgrim of old time, " not 
knowing whither he went;" and all of you, I trust, with 
the rational conviction that life is a scene of difficulty 
and hazard, where all that is manful and heroic in pur- 
pose, united to all good counsel and vigilance, will be 
put in requisition. And we counsel you to go forth 
with " heart and hope," confiding in a Power, which, 
if duly invoked and devoutly cherished, will enable you 
to overcome great difficulties, and change even untoward 
events into elements of ultimate success. Accustom 
yourselves to hopeful views, both of men and things, 
reflecting that the world takes its aspect and shades less 
from its essential qualities than from the temper of mind 
with which it is contemplated. That adverse events 
will cast their shadows upon your path, that favorite 
schemes will be frustrated, and fondly-cherished hopes 



364 LIFE, AS RELATED TO THE 

disappointed, you may rationally anticipate. But the 
cloud passeth away, other schemes will occupy the 
imagination, and new and perhaps brighter hopes dawn 
on the future. 

We have contemplated, on this occasion, " things 
which are not seen," an order of Providence underlying 
and shaping the order of " things seen," where all that is 
real and abiding, all that is true and truly excellent for 
the soul has its abode, — the heavenly city, with its 
peopled myriads ; the temple, which needeth not the 
light of the sun or the moon, " but where the glory of the 
Lord is the light thereof." Here are powers concealed 
that are adequate to all the exigencies of the soul — to 
nourish and give it health, to guide it into safe paths, to 
provide strength and courage when it falters, peace 
when in trouble, and rest when it is weary. 

And now that an occasion is upon us that will return 
no more on the earth, receive from the lips of those who 
have been your teachers and guides the parting counsel, 
that in all the concerns and vicissitudes of future life 
you cherish the habitual and earnest regard to things 
unseen and eternal. In this wide realm of spiritual 
truth and life and beauty, let the spirit of your own 
mind seek its morning and evening and noonday walks. 
From these mines of exhaustless wealth let it gather a 
treasure that waxeth not old. In this region of all that 
is pure and serene and lovely — this true home of the 
soul ■ — let us seek repose from the buffets of a rude and 
turbulent world, and from these fountains of a higher 
life draw into it those living waters which will nourish it 
unto life everlasting. 

And now unto Him who hath brought you thus far 
on your way, and preserved your ranks unbroken by 
death, — to the only wise God, our Saviour, — we affec- 



SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 365 

tionately commend you; devoutly imploring that he 
will still be your refuge and guide, and that after many 
years of manful exertion for truth and righteousness 
among men, he will gather you all together into that 
city " which hath foundations, whose builder and maker 
is God." Amen. 



THOUGHTS IN AFFLICTION. 



[The following lines, composed soon after the death of President Smith, 
having accidentally fallen in my way when the larger part of this volume 
was in press, find a fitting place next to his last public discourse. It is 
believed that they will be of interest to the friends of the family, and not 
without their consolation to those bereaved like their author. — C] 

From every murmuring thought and word, 
From trembling doubts and fears, O Lord, 

In thee I seek relief; 
Thy love can heal the broken heart, 
Thy presence holy peace impart, 

And soothe the mourner's grief. 

When all thy billows o'er my soul 
Their dark and fearful waters roll, 

And tempests veil the skies ; 
When Faith, though guided by the Word, 
And steadfast promise of her Lord, 

No star of hope descries : 

Then, 'midst the darkness and the storm, 
Help me to see thy blessed form, 

Thy gracious accents hear ; 
Still hold in thine my trembling hand, 
While o'er the waves, at thy command, 

I walk, and know no fear. 



THOUGHTS IN AFFLICTION. 367 

Where shall I fly, but to thy breast ? 
O, where find succor, solace, rest, 

When earthly comforts die ? — 
When on my pathway, once so blessed, 
So long by cheerful footsteps pressed, 

Thy sore bereavements lie ? 

The love that life's best blessing gave 
Will not withhold the boon I crave, 

If sought in faith sincere ; 
That to his sovereign will divine 
I may, with childlike trust, resign 

That gift to me most dear. 

I thank Thee for the life of faith, 
The "peaceful confidence" in death, 

The patient hope serene, 
That o'er the sick and dying bed 
Their sweet and hallowed influence shed, 

To bless the solemn scene. 

I thank Thee for the gifted mind, 
The spirit, noble and refined, 

Upright, sincere, and just — 
For all the traits of manly worth 
That marked his daily walk on earth, 

And now embalm his dust. 

I bless Thee for the truths he taught, 
With light and life and spirit fraught, 

With wisdom from above, 
Unfolding, with persuasion rare, 
With earnest zeal and fervent prayer, 

Thy messages of love. 



368 



THOUGHTS IN AFFLICTION. 



And while I praise Thee and adore, 
The crowning favor I implore, 

That I may bless thy rod, 
And through earth's conflicts, toils, and strife, 
By thy rich grace, my daily life 

Be "hid with Christ in God." 



23 July lubl. 



1 



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